


Speak to the Dead

by Morbid_Hatter



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Deviates From Canon, He also has the ability to talk to the dead, M/M, Minor Character Death, Origin Story, Supernatural Elements, Vladimir Ranskahov Lives, and also gets him away from being a bad guy, this gets him together with Matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbid_Hatter/pseuds/Morbid_Hatter
Summary: There was a turning point in Vladimir's life that caused him to turn away from what he wanted as a boy and turn to a life of crime. But before this, he was happy and was gifted with something special - if only he knew what it was and what it did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few other things I should be working on so instead this happened. There will be one or two more chapters after this but it was meant to be a one-shot origin story type thing.
> 
> oops.

1 - Moscow, 1999

He was supposed to be going to church - Mama said he should go, but without Tolik to make him go, Vladimir was dragging his feet. He fiddled with his tie, scuffed his good shoes against the stone wall of a storefront, and ruffled a hand through his hair. It was too long, his teachers had complained that he wasn’t following the dress code, but he refused to allow anyone in his family near his hair after his mother butchered the last cut and he made Tolik fix it with a set of clippers; and since they didn’t have money for luxuries like regular trips to the barber, Vladimir did his best to keep from getting into too much trouble.

Or, more than his usual amount of trouble.

The sound of pounding footsteps interrupted his musings and attempts to avoid going to church by himself. “Volodya! Wait!”

Vladimir stopped. There were only two people with permission to call him anything other than his given name and Tolik was working so that meant that the person calling out to him was none other than Nikolai Vashchenko, his classmate and dearest friend.

Nikolai had pale blond hair, so fair it was almost white and light grey eyes like the early morning light. Vladimir gave his head a light shake with the hope that it would dislodge the part of his brain that would wax poetic about Niko.

Niko skidded to a halt at Vladimir’s feet and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “You are out of shape, my friend,” Vladimir chastised mildly. “Can not run 100 meters and would fall over with a light push.”

Nikolai scowled and stood up to his full height which only brought him eye level to Vladimir’s chin. “We can’t all be natural athletes. Some of us have to be the smart ones,” he stated with a jab at Vladimir’s sternum.

Vladimir just hummed and rested his arm over Nikolai’s shoulders and allowed his friend to lead him down the street. They didn’t speak as they walked down the street and Vladimir revels in the quiet and gets lost in thought while they make the familiar trek to the church. It will be nice to have someone to sit with, he thought to himself as he tighten his grip on Nikolai’s shoulders.

As lost in thought as he was, he didn’t notice when his companion stopped. He turned and gave Nikolai an inquisitive eyebrow. “Why did you stop, Niko?”

Nikolai was looking at a store front that hadn’t been there the week before. They walked through the door where a man with white hair and strange clothing. He greeted them and Vladimir could tell he was not native to Russia by the way his shaped his words, but that he had been around long enough to know how to blend in. “My name is Taneleer Tivan. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

Vladimir and Nikolai split up and while his friend started looking around at the strange looking sculptures that made zero sense to Vladimir but that Niko seemed to love. Vladimir made his way to the counter where there was an odd selection of small trinkets. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the proprietor pull a fob watch out, flip it open, raise an eyebrow as if surprised and then look towards Vladimir while he put the watch back in his waistcoat pocket. “I have something for you,” he said while he opened a locked cabinet.

“I had no intention of selling this,” Tivan said, more to himself than to Vladimir; but Vladimir got the feeling that the old man was used to filling silences with his own voice. “Something tells me that you’ll need this.”

Tivan slid a tarnished silver disc across the counter. There was some kind of design that looked carved into the soft metal. Vladimir tentatively reached out for the disc and dug his nails under the thin sides in order to pick it up off the smooth glass counter. Once his skin made contact with it, he felt a warmth rush from his fingers through his arm and stopping in his chest where it warmed his entire torso.

“Interesting,” Tivan mused quietly before he turned away from the counter in order to make his way to Niko who was looking at what looked like a bonsai tree but thicket and more twisted.

“Wait!” Vladimir called. The owner turned around and took a step back towards Vladimir. “I can’t pay for this,” he said and held out the trinket even though he didn’t want to let go of it. He tighten his grip around the disc before he tried to give it back.

“I told you: I had no intention of selling it,” Tivan said before folding the gift back into Vladimir’s palm and then, deciding he was done with him, turned to speak with Nikolai. This allowed Vladimir to study the disc as it warmed further in his fingers. He closed his eyes and felt as though he could hear someone whispering from somewhere close to him. He opened his eyes quickly to look around, but only ended up looking foolish as he spun around and saw nothing.

“Volodya, what are you doing?” Nikolai asked with a laugh.

Vladimir felt the tips of his ears heat up in mild embarrassment. “Nothing,” he muttered while he tucked his gift into his jacket pocket. “We should go,” he added while noting the time, “we’ll be late for church.”

Nikolai hummed in agreement and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you,” he told the owner with a warm smile. “Your store is wonderful,” he called out even as he followed Vladimir out the door and down the street.

They made it a block away from the store before Vladimir had to show his gift off. “Look what he gave me,” he said while flourishing the trinket around.

Nikolai’s face lit up with interest. “What do the markings mean?” he asked as he took it from Vladimir’s hand. Had it been anyone else, he would have snatched it back with a snarl, but Niko was different; Niko was special. Vladimir shrugged. “You didn’t ask? You stared at this thing like it was the second coming of Christ and yet you did not ask what it was?”

Vladimir felt more than his ears heat up this time. “What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was distracted.”

“What distracted you so much, Volodya?” Niko asked; his eyes wide with curiosity and a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Many things distract me, Niko,” Vladimir said slyly. “Now, lets go. Jesus doesn’t like it when we’re late.”

Niko reached out and grabbed Vladimir’s wrist. “I don’t really want to go,” Nikolai confessed to the ground.

Vladimir frowned. Niko wasn’t overly religious but he usually enjoyed going to church. He liked feeling close to God, he said many times. “What’s wrong, Niko?” he asked quietly. He pulled Nikolai out of the street and into an alley between a restaurant and a corner convenience store. Nikolai kicked at a lose piece of gravel and refused to look at Vladimir. “Niko, do not make me beg. You know you can talk to me.”

Nikolai sighed and reluctantly made eye contact. “I just, I don’t feel like going.” Vladimir hummed and raised a suspicious eyebrow. “I may have recently realized something about myself and I’m trying to come to terms with it.”

It was a vague statement, but it was enough for Vladimir to worry; Niko was not usually one to beat around the bush. “What did you realized?”

Nikolai shook his head ‘no’. “I don’t know if I can -” Niko paused and finally released Vladimir’s wrist so that he was able to run his hands through his pale blond hair. Niko bit his lip and started display more of his tell-tale signs of nerves.

“Niko,” Vladimir said, trying to soothe his friend as best he could. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Niko’s eyes looked half-wild and he shook his head again. “No, I really can’t.” He groaned. Without warning Niko stood up on his tip-toes and pressed a nervous kiss to Vladimir’s lips. He groaned again and turned away from Vladimir all while muttering about losing his best friend and other things Vladimir found to be nonsense.

He tapped his finger against his lip where Niko had just kissed him and felt himself smile. “Niko,” he called while he rested his hand on Nikolai’s shoulder. When Niko didn’t acknowledge him, he tried again. “Niko, please. Look at me, _zvezda moya_.”

He could see Niko’s shoulders stiffen with the endearment. “Please don’t mock me, Volodya.”

Vladimir felt his jaw drop with the defeated tone of Niko’s voice. In truth, he had no intention of mocking Niko for his feelings even if he didn’t return them. Which he did. Whole heartedly. “I’m not,” he replied softly. “Niko, I could never do that to you.”

In a sudden burst of bravery, Vladimir tilted Nikolai’s chin up so he didn’t have to lean down quite so far to kiss him again. “You’re my dearest friend, Niko. And if this is something you want,” he paused, trying to find words to explain what was going on in his head, “then I’m willing to try.

“Besides,” he added with a hint of his normal cocky smile, “I quite enjoyed kissing you and I’d like to do it again.”

The answering smile from Niko was like a burst of sunshine and Vladimir vowed right then to do anything to keep that smile in place as long as possible.

  
Six Months Later

 

Vladimir sighed in contentment as Niko ran his fingers through Vladimir’s hair as they watched whatever movie Niko had put in. He wasn’t paying attention to it. They hadn’t had a minute to themselves in a week and Vladimir was basking in the quiet rhythm of Niko’s hand and his low commentary of the apparently awful movie.

They didn’t say anything to anyone about their relationship, not even Tolik (which was probably the hardest thing he could do, but Tolik was involved with some terrible people who did terrible things for a living). And because of the secrecy, there wasn’t a lot of time allowed for them to spend together. It was frustrating, but they knew it was for the best - maybe for now, maybe for the entirety of their relationship.

Vladimir sighed heavily and reached for the disc he had been given and started to turn it around and around as much as the leather cord he kept it on would allow.

“You’re going to choke yourself, Volodya.”

“No I won’t,” Vladimir argued, sticking his tongue out in a childish gesture normally reserved for his fights with Tolik when he knew he couldn’t win.

Niko patted him on the head in a condescending manner and a quirk of his lips. “Ridiculous.”

Vladimir just nodded in agreement. Niko wasn’t wrong, after all. “It’s why you love me, _zvezda moya_.”

Niko started carding his fingers through Vladimir’s hair again and hummed. “It’s about 12 per cent of it, yes. But no more than that.”

“I accept that,” Vladimir answered before he closed his eyes and planned on enjoying a nap using his boyfriend’s leg as a pillow and the rhythmic feeling of his fingers as a lullaby. “Good, night, _myshka_.”

The harsh tug on his hair was worth it. As was the petulant “I am not a mouse!”

~~~

As time went on, they got less cautious. There were narrow misses and incidents where they were almost caught both at Niko’s home (Never at the Ranskahov household, Vladimir didn’t feel safe letting Niko anywhere near that mess) and in public. But it was almost the new millennium and they were almost 17; they felt invincible.

It was a lot of almost and not enough certainty in anything.

Vladimir, on a rare day that he wasn’t spending his free time with Niko, was studying in his room when the door flew open and his older brother stormed into his room looking wild and nervous. “Volodya, you need to stop,” Tolik whispered as to keep the conversation quiet even through the now closed bedroom door.

“Stop studying? Gladly,” Vladimir said, playing dense on purpose to try and diffuse the suddenly tense situation.

Anatoly, the more level headed of the brothers, smacked his younger brother in the head. “Do not play dumb, Volodya. It doesn’t suit you.” Anatoly started pacing back and forth in the small area at the foot of Vladimir’s bed. “Look, I know, alright. I know about Niko and it needs to stop. You’re going to get yourselves killed.”

Vladimir scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Don’t be dramatic, Tolik.” Even as he said it, he knew his brother was just being realistic. Things had gotten better since the Soviet Union dissolved and they were free to call their country Russia again, but it still wasn’t a good place. There was still discord and hurt feelings going around; and it all had to go somewhere.

“I am not dramatic. You need to stop. They know. And I don’t know how long I can protect you.”

Even though Vladimir felt his blood run cold, he wouldn’t let it show on his face. “You say ‘they’ like no one around here knows. Don’t be mysterious, Tolik. It doesn’t suit you.”

Anatoly sighed and shook his head in defeat. Vladimir hated that look; Tolik was never disappointed in him, and yet that’s exactly the look he was getting as of now. “Please,” his brother begged. “They are planning something and I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

A plan formed in Vladimir’s mind. It was extreme, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, as long as he could talk Niko into it too. “Yes, thank you, Tolik. Maybe you’re right.” He stood up and repacked his school book into his bag. “I should stop before anyone gets hurt.”

Anatoly looked suspicious for several moments before he seemed to accept Vladimir’s word and he left in a much less dramatic way than he arrived.

Vladimir absently tutted at the dent Tolik’s dramatics left in the cheap plaster wall. “That is coming out of his deposit,” Vladimir said to himself as he packed a roll of bills, some clothes, his wallet, and the Glock Anatoly had gifted him for Christmas last year that he had never seen the use for until now (which didn‘t stop Tolik from insisting that Vladimir learned how to shoot. He was very good now, all things considered).

The Ranskahov’s only had one phone and it was Papa and Tolik’s “work” phone and was not to be used by anyone else so Vladimir had to go without telling Niko that he was coming by. He just hoped that nothing had happened yet and Niko would go with his plan, as crazy as it seemed.

It wasn’t a long way to the Vashchenko’s home, but every minute seemed to last an hour with Tolik’s warning ringing in his ears. It wasn’t often that the mob got entangled with the rest of the Ranskahov family or their friends, so Vladimir knew that no matter how much he may hate it, he needed to take his brother’s warning seriously. Tolik only ever looked out for his best interests and if he gave him a warning then it must be serious. _On the positive side,_  Vladimir reasoned with himself as he hurried his steps a little more,  _he didn't say anything bad about me being with Niko._

He was relieved, in a way, that his brother hadn’t said anything negative about his relationship. It was dramatic, but he felt as if a little part of himself would die if Tolik were to ever denounce his familial bond with Vladimir. They may be nearly a decade apart in age, but after Niko, Anatoly was Vladimir’s best friend.

He stopped in his tracks at the scene in front of him. A large utility van had the back door open were an unconscious blond was being thrown onto the hard metal floor. They hadn’t seen him yet, but he couldn’t seem to move. It was as if his bones and muscles had turned to lead and he was frozen in place.

By the time the shock had worn off, he had been spotted and grabbed by several men he recognized but couldn’t place a name to their faces. _Tolik's warning was a little too late_ , he thought to himself with a small laugh as they took his bag and cracked him across the face with his own weapon. _Pistol whipped by my own gun_ , he thought before his world went black.

“That was nothing like the movies,” Vladimir found himself complaining from his spot on the cold floor of the warehouse he had woken up in. He was talking to himself because Niko had yet to wake up. If it wasn’t for the harsh, ragged breathing echoing off the walls, Vladimir feared he was already dead. As it was, he wasn’t very hopeful for either of them getting out of their situation alive.

“You know, Niko,” he continued, determined for once, to fill the silence. “I had a plan. I’ve been saving every Ruble I could get my hands on since we started dating. I wanted us to be able to afford to get out of Russia one day.” He shook his head to get rid of the grey creeping into his vision again. “It was stupid, but I hoped one day we could go to America. Start over. Maybe one day we could get married. Stupid, huh?”

His confession was met with nothing but silence until a pair of legs filled his line of vision. He tilted his head up and attempted to stand up to whomever was in front of him. He wasn’t going to die on his knees. He was a man, damnit!

Only, he couldn’t move that far. They had him attached to the damn support beam he thought he was just leaning against. “Fuck,” he whispered. The swear echoed through the mostly empty space so that the numerous people who had entered the room while he had been monologuing heard it.

“’Fuck’ is right, Volodya,” the man in front of him taunted.

“Do not call me that,” he spat, the grey in his vision slowly turning red with rage.

The man just tutted at him before they all made their way over to Niko’s still unconscious form. “It’s a pity your boyfriend sleeps away your last moments together. I’ll wake him for you.”

Vladimir’s next curse was drown out by the crack of a gunshot and Nikolai’s subsequent screams of agony at being shot at point blank range.

He can’t remember much through the haze of pain and tears clouding his vision. But he was clear headed enough to memorize their faces as something inside of him died. In its place something dark and terrible was born while he watched his first love die slowly.

Unable to do anything but scream himself hoarse, Vladimir was forced to watch as they beat Niko to death. His screams couldn’t drown out the snap and crunch of breaking bones and cartilage. “I’m so sorry, Niko,” he croaked out through his tears as the ground was covered in a mist of blood and brain matter when they finally ended the brutality with a shot to the head. “I will see you soon, my love,” he said with resignation as the one who delivered the kill shot stalked across the room to stand in front of Vladimir.

“Not today, Volodya,” he taunted, turning the beloved nickname into something cruel and hateful. “Today, you may live. Only because your idiot brother seems to think we can use you.”

Vladimir said nothing. He let them free him from the multiple places they had restrained him. He didn’t move even to rub circulation back into his sore limbs.

He didn’t hear them as one said “Leave him,” and exit out the only visible door.

He didn’t notice time passing. It was getting dark when he was on his way to get Niko and now it was dark. It could have been minutes or hours since he first lost consciousness. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care.

Vladimir felt weak and helpless. Two things he couldn’t stand to feel. But currently, it was the only thing he could focus on because if he looked up he would see what was left of Nikolai and that would end him faster than anything the thugs responsible for Niko’s death could do to him.

Much later he recognized the creaking of the door and a familiar set of footsteps. “Volodya!” his brother called as he dropped to his knees beside Vladimir it try and free him. “Why are you still here? They let you go.”

Vladimir slowly looked up at his brother. “Don’t call me that anymore.” His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “Volodya is dead now.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Anatoly chastised gently.

He found himself shaking his head in disagreement. “No, Tolik. Part of me died today with Niko. And now, I have some business to attend to. I’m going to do it with or without your help, but it will be done faster if you would assist me for a moment.”

Dumbfounded, Anatoly helped Vladimir stand up on numb and tingling legs. He made his way over to his bag where the dumbasses had replaced his Glock after knocking him out with it. “Your friends aren’t very bright,” he said absently as he checked the mag once before he turned on his brother. “Where do they meet?”

Anatoly hesitated a moment too long for Vladimir.

“They killed him, Tolik! Right in front of me! For kissing me! We were happy, Tolik! _I was finally happy!_ ” His voice hit a hysterical edge but there was no hiding the way he was feeling. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt that was, without a doubt, hiding vicious bruises from the restraints.

As soon as Anatoly gave him the information he wanted, Vladimir grabbed his bag and marched out of the warehouse without looking back.

He lost time on the walk to the house where the _Bratva_ was spending their evening. He felt it would be more dramatic to go storming in, but with someone manning the front door, he had to sneak around the back. His grand entrance may have been ruined, but as long as the rest of it could go to plan, he didn’t care about a dramatic entrance. It may have been another extreme, but he had lost all ability to care for his own life and he couldn’t find it in himself to care as long as he got his revenge for Niko. Which, admittedly, sounded crazy to the logical part of his brain; but it was being silenced by the much louder, angrier parts of his brain screaming for blood and vengeance.

He kept quiet as he sneaked through the hallway and followed the voices until he found them standing around a pool table. They were reporting to Tolik’s boss, the head of Tolik’s branch of the far-reaching, many faced beast that was the Russian Mafia. With the last pantomime of the kill shot that ended Niko’s life, Vladimir announced his presence.

He was leaning against the wall, mostly in shadow (only partially for effect). “Yes, very good job killing a defenseless boy,” he straightened out his relaxed posture and double checked to make sure the safety was off.

One of them made a snide comment about Vladimir wanting one last fuck in before his bitch died. “Fuck the pleasantries, then,” he mused while carefully aiming his Glock at the nearest _Bratva_ and pulling the trigger before another word could be uttered. Three others followed in quick succession before he took several slow steps towards the final man responsible for Niko’s suffering and death.

“See, Niko had nothing to do with any of this,” Vladimir said slowly, the red of rage still coloring his vision to the point where his only urge was to kill the man in front of him. “And you just killed an innocent boy so-”

Crack.

“-fuck you,” he said after the bullet lodged through the man’s eye.

Slow clapping filled the room as the only other living person in the room brought attention to himself. “That was quite a display,” he said as if Vladimir didn’t just kill his men in less than a minute. “I could use someone with your skills, Vladimir. You and your brother can do great things with my help.”

Vladimir pretended to think, even to go as far as to scratch his chin with the barrel of his gun. “Hmm. It’s a tempting offer, but the thing is - you ordered the hit. I’m not stupid. I know how this game works. And I can’t work for someone who intentionally makes my life hell. So my answer is a resounding no.”

He could tell he was no longer alone in the room, but he was going to cut the head off the snake before it came back and bit him. One final shot and the last man crumpled to the ground. He fired another two bullets into the body’s head before he turned to look at his company.

“Ah, Tolik. I’m done now,” he said pleasantly as he clicked the safety back on the Glock and replaced it in his backpack.

“Volo- Vovo, what did you do?” Anatoly asked as he looked around the room in shock.

“Vengeance,” he replied mildly. “You do not hurt what is mine,” he vowed with a insane spark in his eyes that he was unaware of, “and Niko was mine.”

Anatoly shook his head. “What have you done,” he said with a sad shake of his head as he helped Vladimir stack the bodies in the basement and lighting the entire house on fire.

Later, when they were back at their house and cleaned of blood and smoke, Anatoly sat at the end of Vladimir’s bed. “You know you’re going to jail, right? The police were being paid by my employer. It’s just a matter of time.”

Vladimir nodded. “I know. I knew what was going to happen to me before I did it. I accept it.”

Anatoly seemed sad yet impressed. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get out, brother. I won’t leave you,” he vowed.

“Thank you, Tolik,” Vladimir said sincerely. He hugged his knees and sighed heavily. “I miss him,” he confessed before Anatoly had left the room. “We hadn’t gone any further than kissing. He wasn’t ready and I wasn’t going to push for anything else, but it didn’t matter. I loved him more than anything.”

Anatoly rested his hand on Vladimir’s shoulder before he pulled his younger into a tight hug. “You’ll be okay. Not now, not for a while, but eventually you’ll find your happiness again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally meet! Vladimir attempts to do some persuasion after rethnking some crucial life choices he's made in the past.

Vladimir knocked his head back against the cement wall he was leaning against. He had hoped the sharp sting would distract him from the agony of the knife wound to his face. It was probably infected, but there was nothing he could do about it for the moment. Utkin was not known for cleanliness or its hospitality.

He gripped the sharpened rib bone like a talisman to keep him from passing out in pain. It was just a matter of time before Anatoly was returned. _Hopefully alive_ , he thought morbidly to himself with a heavy sigh. It would just be his luck for something to happen right when he finally comes up with a plan to get them out.

Vladimir had lost much over the last decade from time to freedom to himself. He wasn’t particularly proud of how he and his brother had turned out; but the deep rooted anger and hatred for the world wouldn’t allow for much else. Even though he had been practicing control since being sentenced to life in Utkin (a sentence he had absolutely no desire to fulfill) he still had moments where the memories would slip through. Every once in a while he would see Niko next to him, speaking to him or not; but he would be there to torment Vladimir.

He could almost picture Niko sprawled out next to him, tapping him on the arm to get his attention to tell him how insane his plan was and how he was doomed to fail. _You’re going to get your brother killed and then you’ll really be all alone_ , the Niko-shaped hallucination said with an angry frown.

Vladimir shook his head and closed his eyes tightly to dispel the hallucination. His Niko would never say that. “Get a grip,” he commanded himself before he sat up, resolute in his plan. All he had to do was wait for Tolik and ignore the shadowy figure of Niko that his brain had conjured up to punish him with.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait much longer before Tolik was unceremoniously dumped into the cell next to him. The dull thud startled the rats but did little else to disturb the other occupants. Alexi was dead and Vladimir was pretending to be unconscious in order to draw attention away from himself - and to envision himself somewhere that wasn’t god-forsaken Russia.

Tolik tapped a rhythm onto his arm and allowed himself a moment to voice his fear that he would leave his younger brother alone.

And maybe the picture he painted for Tolik wasn’t as wonderful sounding when vocalized as it was when he pictured it in his head; but with Tolik by his side, he was willing to try. Tolik was all he had left and he wasn’t willing to do anything without his brother.

Not again.

He couldn’t remember how they managed to get out. He was just glad he had the foresight to steal a few pairs of boots or they would have both died of exposure before they made it more than a few miles. But all he could hear was the piercing echo of the siren wailing in the wind. It followed them even as they lost the guards and dogs hunting them.

Nothing more stands out over the numbing cold. Looking back now from the comfort of his warm office, he knew he wouldn’t have made it to Moscow without his brother by his side. He may have given up if it wasn’t for the small light Tolik had been able to ignite in his chest.

Vladimir found himself absently twirling the disc that once again hung from his neck. He had left it buried under Niko’s headstone before his second time in prison when he wasn’t sure if he could entrust it with his brother. He knew no one would think it was worth anything, but it reminded him of a time where he had been happy and he hadn’t been willing to part with it.

It was, he realized while reflecting on the days they had spent in Moscow before leaving for New York, the strangest part of his life. He had been delirious with cold and hunger pains when he had tore his fingers to bits on the hard ground to dig out the small trinket. The delirium was what he had originally assumed caused the hallucination of Niko to appear just before he felt the world grey out.

Sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t just a combination of physical and mental traumas that had allowed him to see Niko those precious few seconds before he passed out; but then he would remember that it happened again when he woke up.

It had been maybe a few hours later when he had blinked his eyes open and saw a frowning blond leaning over him. It wasn’t the same frown that his regular projections of Niko his brain created since he lost him nearly a decade before. “You look awful, Volodya.”

Vladimir found himself chuckling even years later. He heaved a sigh and checked the time. He and Anatoly had been settled in Hell’s Kitchen for almost five years and yet he still sometimes felt as if his circadian rhythm wouldn’t never synch up with New York time and leave Russia in the past where it belonged.

“Niko?” he called quietly with his hand wrapped around the disc. It hadn’t taken long for Vladimir to realize that the strange disc he had been gifted as a teen was some kind of magical item. He could dismiss the first time it happened as exposure and exhaustion but it happened again and again every time he would quietly speak to Nikolai while his fingers touched the disc.

Now, however, Niko rarely showed. Vladimir couldn’t really blame him; but it was still painful to know that it was, maybe, time to let go of the last bit of innocence he still had. He held his breath for a moment where he gave Niko time to answer his summon but the room remained silent except for the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights.

Even though he was alone, Vladimir found that he needed to speak. _If anything_ , he reasoned, _I can maybe talk my way to an answer._

“I know you’re angry with me. I don’t blame you, but I just need to talk. We are losing everything to a man who thinks he owns us and everything we have built. And I have yet to hear back from Anatoly. He went to speak to him, to _grovel_ and _beg_ for help like we are just dogs, but he hasn’t been back. It’s been hours. I know Tolik can take care of himself but I -” he stopped his monologue when he heard a set of footsteps coming towards his door.

He sighed heavily and tucked the disc under his shirt. A faint knock echoed through his office before the door knocked without his consent. Fisk’s lapdog, James Wesley, stepped through the door and offered Vladimir a small smile while he congratulated Vladimir about decided to side with his employer.

Vladimir wanted to throw something at the wall and shout about a complete lack of privacy. _A closed door used to mean something_ , he groused to himself while he mentally counted to five and exhaled slowly.

It was the last clear thought he had.

He remembered Sergei coming in and being flanked by two others who were carrying what was left of Tolik. He had the vague memory of Wesley saying something about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and maybe his mask? Was that what he was holding? It was hard to focus on anything past the violent red flooding his vision.

It was hard to focus on anything over the feeling of his heart crumbling to pieces.

Once he was alone, blissfully alone, he cleaned Tolik’s body of as much blood as possible. It was only right. He still felt physically numb, disconnected from his body and everything around him. Except…

He raised a shaking hand back to the disc that hung around his neck. “Tolik?” he called, his voice cracking around the childhood nickname. “Anatoly?” he tried again when he was met with nothing but the echoing silence of his office.

When he remained alone despite repeating the summons he felt his knees give way and he sunk to the floor, unable to remain standing after his world had again flipped upside down.

***

Nikolai had stayed away from Vladimir for years; had stayed away ever since he and his brother had ran to the United States, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t privy to everything that had happened since his death. He heard each call, heard each resigned sigh every time he refused to show his face.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew how much it hurt Vladimir every time he stayed away. But, the worst part of dying at 16 was that he stayed 16. He remained unchanged even as the love of his life grew and matured and strayed further and further away from the boy he had been was too hard to witness more than he had to.

But this….

This loss echoed across time and dimension and death. Volodya wasn’t calling to him this time, but even as his voice called for his recently deceased brother, his heart called for Niko to help him process.

This time, Niko couldn’t go without answering. “He won’t come, Volodya. He’s still coming to terms with his death.” Vladimir lifted his head so quickly he cracked it against the drywall. It was if he didn’t even notice - his eyes were wild and his mind obviously miles away. “It’s a lot to process, _lyubov moya_ , it takes time.”

“Niko? What? You’re here? I - I didn’t call you. I decided to leave you be.”

Nikolai felt himself smile. Despite being a mob boss and all around bad gay, he could see some of the old Volodya shining through the anger and hatred that hardened him into a criminal overlord. But even overlords fall; even the Prince of Thieves needed to mourn like a common man. “You still called out to me, Volodya,” he said and knelt so that they were at eye level. “But listen: I know you’re angry and hurt but you _cannot_ act rashly.”

“ _Rashly_?” Vladimir snarled through the tears he was probably unaware he was shedding. “I’m going to end that _d’yavol_ and tear down the world to do it if I have to.” Sadly, Nikolai found himself believing Vladimir; not only for the conviction of his speech, but also for the blood thirsty look on his face. This was no longer the boy who had stolen his heart but a man capable of whatever he put his mind to.

“Vladimir, you must listen. Fisk is doing this. He’s trying to get you to start a war! He’s the one who killed your brother.”

Vladimir, who had previously been muttering about every way he could end the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen (each more creative than the last), looked up and closed his mouth with a click of his teeth. “ _Chto_? That fat fuck is trying to start - I’ll rip his head off!”

Nikolai sat down in front of Vladimir and reached towards him. They had never attempted to touch after realizing that the disc allowed Vladimir the ability to communicate past the void. He felt a fleeting rush as he was able to wrap his fingers around Vladimir’s wrist and bring his hand away from his head. “Volodya,” he whispered in an attempt to soothe the irate man, “you can’t do this alone.”

It was silent for a long moment and Nikolai feared he had lost Vladimir to the red haze of rage. The quiet stretched until, at last, Vladimir exhaled with a nod. “You’re right, as always, Niko.” His voice was flat but no longer colored in anger. It wasn’t much of an improvement, if it was one at all. He couldn’t decide if he preferred the seething anger or the emotionless acceptance, he wasn’t sure which one scared him more; but the violent storm in his dark blue eyes had calmed. “And who better than the enemy of my enemy?” he asked and stood up.

Nikolai watched Vladimir plot to himself as if he had forgotten that he wasn’t alone even as he kept a hand clenched around the silver trinket that kept Nikolai tethered to Earth. He knew Vladimir’s half-cocked plan was insane at best, but he also knew that the odds of it working were oddly high considering.

Part of him was relieved when Vladimir reached for his gun, and in doing so, banished Nikolai; but the other part of him was anxious to see the upcoming confrontation through to the end.

***

Vladimir didn’t notice the bite of the wind against his face as he perched lazily on the wide ledge of the warehouse adjacent to one of his own. He wasn’t sure which of the buildings the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen would visit but he was sure the man in the mask would find him one way or another. Which is why he put Mikhail in front of this building.

Anatoly always said Mikhail was a coward and not to be trusted which is exactly why Vladimir kept him around. His brother thought he was nuts, but it was times like this that a coward was the key. He knew that Mikhail would give him up to save his own skin which was just what he needed to get in touch with the idiot running around in nothing more than a heavy shirt and cargo pants. Idiot.

The wait wasn’t long, especially when he could feel the phantom touch of Niko at his shoulder. He wasn’t keeping Niko around even though he was fidgeting with the disc, but he could still feel the warmth of his old love standing by him. “You know, Niko, I still cannot believe I’m crazy enough to try and convince this mad man to help me.”

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to summon Niko. “You’ve never been the most stable of people, Volodya.”

Vladimir snorted inelegantly and nodded. “That was your job, _luchik_ ,” Vladimir countered with a lopsided grin. “You were definitely the more rational one. You and Tolik. What am I supposed to do without you two?”

Nikolai, who seemed much smaller now that Vladimir was fully grown, curled around Vladimir’s legs like a cat. “You’ll be just fine, I think, my love.”

Vladiimir hummed and absently stroked his hand through Nikolai’s blond hair. “I’m sure you know best,” he said even as he sat upright and narrowed his eyes. “You should go, _kotyenok_.”

Nikolai rolled his eyes and stood. “You should really cut back on the pet names, Volodya. You’ll run out of them when you find someone else to love.”

“Unlikely,” Vladimir answered even though his mind was already calculating all the ways he could convince the Man in the Mask to join up with him, and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.

He could hear the Devil threatening Mikhail to give him up which the coward did immediately, pointing at the rooftop Vladimir was currently roosting on. He allowed himself a moment to breathe and mentally prepare himself to keep his cool before he heard the thump of a pair of heavy boots land on the roof.

The man in all black crossed his arms across his chest and frowned heavily in Vladimir’s general direction. _Interesting_ , Vladimir thought to himself. _He’s not actually looking at me. There’s no way he can see through that heavy cloth_. “You’re a hard man to find,” the Devil said finally.

With a heavy eye roll Vladimir stood. “Not for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, apparently,” Vladimir countered as he mocked the other man’s posture. “But I didn’t let you find me just for idle chit chat. I have a proposition for you.” He cringed over the heavy accent he was having more trouble than normal hiding.

This apparently was not what the man opposite him was expecting. “And what, exactly, do you propose?”

He straightened his shoulders and bared his teeth around the name as he hissed out “Wilson Fisk. I want him dealt with and you are trying to do this, _da_?” When the other nodded cautiously, Vladimir plowed on. “Then I would like to work with you. I think you and I could take him down.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that Vladimir loves to use pet names to annoy Matt and that he totally got it from an old relationship where he would make up the most ridiculous nicknames possible in order to make his significant other smile.
> 
> Also, I'm not 100% positive, but this could very well be my last update for about a month. I'm participating in the Winterhawk Mini Bigbang and a Winterhawk week at the same time. This means I've got a busy February and those are going to take the front seat for a while. But, fear not, my friends. I'm not leaving Mattimir out in the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys attempt to work out some semblance of a plan, instead secrets are shared and Niko learns something no one else notices

-3-

Matt wondered how he ended up face down on a rooftop with a Russian mob boss on top of him, protecting his head from an explosion that erupted in the building across the street from them. He had honestly been intrigued by what Vladimir had been saying, but he was worried that it had all just blown up around them - literally.

 

He couldn’t hear much over the ringing in his ears, but he could make out the angry Russian words echoing too close to his ear. “That sounds bad; but I don’t speak asshole,” he groaned out as he cautiously rolled out from under his protector.

 

He could smell the burning buildings, feel the heat from the fire and smoke; and realized just how close to death he had been. The Russian next to him seemed to have reached the same conclusion if his string of swear words in both English and (he assumed it was cursing) in Russian. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” Vladimir swore. Matt could hear him push himself to his feet and shuffle to the edge of the building. “Are you alright?” he asked Matt even as he pushed him down again and forced him against a low brick wall. Vladimir inched closer but Matt only realized it until he felt a tug at the bottom of his mask by his mouth. It wasn’t something he was used to; normally his senses were so heightened he was never surprised by sudden movement. “May I?”

 

It took Matt several seconds to process the request before he sat up and pushed the mobster’s hands away from his face. “I’d rather you didn’t, actually,” he replied, not unkindly. “I’m not hurt, just surprised.”

 

The mobster only huffed in response. “If you are sure?” he asked. Matt could hear the doubt in his heavily accented voice but could also tell that he was going to let it go. The ringing in his ears was almost gone and in its place Matt could hear the _whump whump_ of helicopter blades heading in their general direction. It seemed that they cavalry was arriving. “Shit,” he hissed and ducked further under the ledge of the roof; hoping that the shadows would be enough to hide them. He tugged on Vladimir’s arm to get him to move closer to the low wall for cover. “So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “do you have any ideas on how to get out out of here?”

 

Vladimir groaned and dropped heavily onto the ground next to him. “I need to see what is left. This is not an isolated incident. Fisk wants to take away everything from me.”

 

Matt was surprised to find not only anger coloring the oddly shaped words, but also bitter sadness and fear. “Where’s the other one? I thought there were two brothers in charge.”

 

Over the roar of the fire and the wailing sirens of emergency vehicles Matt was able to hear the stuttering of Vladimir’s heart as it skipped a beat and accelerated. “Not anymore,” Vladimir answered after a long moment. He didn’t offer anything up after that and Matt found he really didn’t want to make him talk about it. The mobster was scum but even scum didn’t need any extra emotional pain in an intense situation.

 

“Well, let’s get out of here and regroup. You want to help? We’ll start there,” Matt said, deftly changing the subject.

 

As quietly and swiftly as possible, Matt followed Vladimir down a fire escape on the far side of their building. Once on the ground, Matt realized they may have another, more pressing issue. “Do you have anywhere safe to go? The police radios are reporting bombings all over Hell’s Kitchen. I’m guessing you have more than one base of operation.”

 

“Yes,” he replied tensely. “I fear I have no business now – legitimate or otherwise. Fisk likes to be on top and we were not going to let him treat us like dogs.” He then switched to Russian and kept speaking in rapid, angry tones. Matt decided to just let him lead them through the alley and out into a crowded street. “Take off your mask,” Vladimir ordered, “you look like a criminal.”

 

Matt frowned but did as he was told while muttering “you would know,” under his breath. They needed to blend in to keep their anonymity. Matt felt uncomfortable being out without his make but also figured doing so when he did would have been less suspicious and noticeable than if he had done it in the middle of a crowd.

 

Vladimir stopped suddenly and grabbed Matt’s hand before he crashed into the mobster’s back. Matt could feel the shift in the air as Vladimir moved to stand directly in front of him. “You cannot see me, can you?” Vladimir asked with a hint of amazement and wonder coloring his words. “You fight so well for a blind man. I had suspicions but-“ he trailed off and waved a hand in front of Matt’s face.

 

He scowled and grabbed Vladimir’s hand as it made another pass in front of his face. “Stop that. We both look ridiculous when you do that.” Vladimir huffed out a laugh but stopped waving. Instead he tapped on Matt’s elbow. Matt got the hint and followed the Russian through the crowd.

 

“Where are we going?” Matt asked after several minutes of tense silence in which he noticed Vladimir turned around to check on him three times.

 

The Russian stopped again. Matt smelled the smoke before he felt the heat of the fire. He had a feeling that Vladimir’s plan for a safe place had just gone up in smoke. “It looks like Fisk was very thorough; but perhaps not thorough enough. However, I may have to disappear. It may good for him to think that I’ve died.”

 

The sirens started as they began to move away from the burning building. “We should get out of here before you do that,” Matt suggested through his teeth. “I really don’t fancy getting caught by the police with a member of the mob. No offence.”

 

“There is no mob left. The _Bratva_ is gone now.”

 

“You’re very calm about all this,” Matt commented. “I don’t think I could be this level headed if my entire life crashed down around my feet.”

 

Vladimir sighed. “That is usually not a trait equated with me. But I am used to my life being ruined. I am able to process very quickly.”

 

Matt didn’t like the casual way Vladimir spoke of previous traumas. He was probably repressing emotions and would eventually break down; hopefully not any time soon as Matt needed him in one piece while they took down a criminal empire. Instead of voicing his concerns, he instead just went with, “That’s a useful ability.”

 

“I needed it to survive back in Russia. It was a hard-learned lesson,” Vladimir offered absently.

 

Matt nodded and then stopped. “Wait!” he hissed. The police radio stopped as multiple sets of feet started moving their way towards the fire. “We have to move.”

 

Vladimir pushed Matt away from the building and into a small side street. “Sorry,” he said, sounding breathless, “but please do not hit me.”

Matt was puzzled at the random request for a moment before his senses were assaulted by head and a solid figure that smelled of alcohol and smoke and the harsh bite of winter. “What are you doing?” he asked, feeling stupid for the question but he had no idea what the Russian was plotting.

 

“What do you think the police are going to think if we are right next to a burning building? WE are far enough away now, but the police are going to question us. I am giving us an alibi.”

 

“How?”

 

His question was answered by a pair of chapped lips against his own just a several pairs of heavy footsteps came down the alley.

 

Matt had to admit it was a good plan, if a little unorthodox. He wrapped his arms around Vladimir’s broad shoulders and used the larger man’s body to hide his own as the officers slowed down and then left them alone. After a beat, Matt felt more than heard the Russian whisper “public displays of affection make people uncomfortable,” against his lips.

 

Once the officers left the alley to respond to the calls about the fire, Vladimir stepped away. “Sorry,” he mumbled again, sounding a little breathless. “it was easier to keep them away than speak to them when I sound the way I do.”

 

It was a valid point, Matt reasoned. “Good thinking,” he said in response and felt a blush creep up his neck when he realized his voice sounded just as breathless as his companion’s. He cursed his body’s reaction to the physical intimacy of a kiss – he was reacting like he had never been kissed before. Granted, he hadn’t made a habit of kissing men (except for that one, drunken moment in college). It wasn’t very different from kissing a woman, apart from the rasp of several days’ worth of stubble.

 

He felt a little residual Catholic Guilt kick in but he stamped it down as the action was necessary to keep them out of trouble. Other than that, and the fact that he was a criminal, Matt as surprised to find that he had, on some level, enjoyed the kiss. The Russian really knew what he was doing. “That was an interesting avoidance tactic. Did you learn that in Russia too?”

 

Vladimir hummed. “Not quite. I know people who have a very specific skill set.”

 

Matt barked out a surprised laugh. “Alright, Liam Neeson.”

 

“Please,” Vladimir said with a scoff. “I would not allow anyone to be taken away from me again.”

 

There was a story there, but Matt figured it was not a happy story.  “I don’t think I’d like to be taken in any sense, so thank you.”

 

He could make out the vague outline of Vladimir as he nodded and seemingly as an unconscious motion, wrapped a hand around something handing around his neck. He said something in quiet Russian before he switched back to English. “Do you have anywhere we can go? There are things you need to know if we want to take Fisk down.”

 

Matt nodded. He really didn’t want to bring the leader of the Russian mob to his apartment, but it would have to do as it was their only other option. “You just gotta promise you’re not gonna stalk me.”

 

“No promises,” Vladimir said. It sounded almost teasing. Was that just the way he spoke? What the hell? Maybe all Russian were confusing. Matt decided to leave it for now and focus on what he could do about the larger threat. His confusion over a man with a ruined criminal empire could wait in favor of putting away the kingpin.

 

Matt kept an ear out for more police or emergency responders and set off for his apartment with Vladimir keeping pace behind him. They avoided the front door and climbed in through the roof access after climbing up the fire escape. “Have a seat,” Matt called as he began stripping out of his shirt and pants on his way to his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. Only after he had deposited his shirt on his bed did he realized he had just given Vladimir a show. “Stupid,” he chastised himself under his breath while he felt around in his closet for a soft t-shirt. He hopped into a pair of sweatpants quickly as to not leave his guest alone for too long.

 

In the living room, he could hear Vladimir move slowly around and muttering to himself in Russian. Matt was strangely impressed with his ability to flawlessly switch between languages. Elektra used to do it too, but she did it to keep him in the dark and (if he was honest with himself) partially turned on. Vladimir was doing it for no reason he could see other than the ease of the language and to keep communication between them understandable.

 

“Do you want anything to drink? I think I have beer,” Matt offered as he attempted to play a good host and wonder why he cared about the comfort of a mobster at the same time.

 

“ _Nyet_ ,” Vladimir answered before he realized he wasn’t speaking in English anymore and again so that Matt could understand. “No, I am not thirsty.”

 

Matt sat down heavily on the couch with a heavy sigh. “So, how do we do this?”

 

“Fisk has power but he still needs people. He has skills but not with all aspects of his empire. He came in and started business with us and Gao and Nobu. His assistant, Wesley, knows the business but the man you need to talk to is Leland Owlsley; but he won’t talk easily.” Vladimir took a deep breath and tried to settle more into Matt’s couch. “He is the numbers man. But you will need to rough him up or threaten him with physical harm. He will talk the. He is a coward.”

 

Matt rubbed his sightless eyes – this was obviously a bigger clusterfuck than he previously imagined. “Will you help me?” he asked before he hurriedly amended his question. “Without killing anyone? I may be a vigilante, but we still can’t act around the law with this.”

 

Matt expected a fight or at least a scathing comeback. Instead, the Russian nodded and shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right. I want to kill Fisk with my bare hands, but I know why you say what you do.”

 

Vladimir stood up and began pacing back and forth across Matt’s floor. It was like he was a caged animal ready for a fight. Matt could almost see all the pent-up energy in the strangely graceful movements of his body. For such a large man, he moved with a dancer’s grace. “Did you dance?” Matt asked and then cursed himself for blurting out stupid questions. They weren’t friends, they didn’t need to know little details about each other’s past.

 

Vladimir stopped short, like he was surprised by the question. “ _Da._ I danced as a boy before I broke my knee and had to stop when I was fifteen. How did you know?”

 

And that was the million-dollar question. Claire knew, he reasoned, it wouldn’t kill him to tell someone else. “There are other ways to see. I can make out shadows against what looks like fire. I wasn’t born blind.”

 

“So, you lie.” Did he sound betrayed? He sounded betrayed. Matt was surprised to realize that yes, he did sound like he had been betrayed.

 

“No. I didn’t. I can’t see color or anything except a shadow. I know you’re taller than me and have broader shoulders than I do, but I don’t know what color your eyes are or any other physical characteristics you have. I just know how you move like a dancer,” Matt explained quickly. It wasn’t an easy thing to explain since he’s never met anyone else that has the same ability as him. He keeps it to himself.

 

“Blue,” Vladimir replied. “Or,” he amended after a moment. “Grey. Somewhere between the two.”

 

_Oh, he’s telling me his eye color._ Matt could admit he was a little floored that not knowing his eye color was the only thing Vladimir took away from his confession. “That’s all you got out of that?”

 

He could see Vladimir’s shoulders reach his ear in an exaggerated shrug. “It just seemed like something to say?” he said, but the rising tone of his voice turned it into a question.

 

“You’re taking this rather well now that I explained it.”

 

Vladimir shrugged again. “It is just the way things are. Facts. You can see like a bat and I can speak to my dead lover from a magic disc. It sounds crazy but it is the way of the world.”

 

Matt nodded before just what the Russian said soaked into his brain. “Wait. _What?”_ Matt half shrieked. He had teamed up with a monster – a terrible person who did terrible things – he accepted that. What he hadn’t realized that he was also nuts.

 

“ _Da_. I’ll show you. Er – well, um,” Vladimir floundered for a way to be sensitive and was failing. Horribly. Matt found it funny like he did when Foggy realized he was being a jerk.

 

“Go on. I get what you mean,” Matt said with a wave. He wasn’t enough of a jerk to let him keep flailing around like a drowning man.

 

Vladimir reached up and grabbed what Matt realized was the ‘magic disc’ around his neck and called out a tentative “ _Niko_?” The rest of the sentence was lost on Matt as he started speaking in rapid Russian.

 

It was as if something shimmered into existence just to the right of Vladimir’s elbow. It was such a bright thing that Matt could actually make out both the smaller figure and part of Vladimir. The boy was lithe and blond with a smug smile on his face. He was stunned by his sudden ability to see if even a little.

 

The boy crossed his arms over his chest and made a face at Vladimir that was somewhere between exasperated, frustrated, and amused. He said something and gestured a hand towards Matt. “He’s talking about me, I know it.”

 

Vladimir laughed and nodded. “He’s being rude.”

 

“Well tell him I don’t speak asshole so you’re either going to have to act as a translator or – I don’t know,” Matt said, mimicking the kid’s posture and facial expression.

 

The mobster turned to the ghost or spirit or whatever he was and started translating Matt’s words with a wicked smile. After, the kid turned to Matt and slowly raised a hand in a wave. “Am not an asshole. He is,” the spirit said with a nod toward Vladimir. “He has always been that way.”

 

“He speaks English. You stood there speaking Russian just to be a jerk? Wow. Rude.”

 

“He has a name. I prefer Nikolai. There is no need for you not to use it,” Nikolai said with the sass of someone who had never aged past sixteen or seventeen.

 

Matt felt the icy chill of horrible realization creep down his spine. He couldn’t care less about Vladimir being attracted to men. But the age gap was something that he couldn’t look past. There was no way Nikolai was older than eighteen. “You know what statutory rape is, right?” Matt asked slowly.

 

Vladimir whipped around and faced Matt with a shocked expression before he started laughing. He dropped down onto the floor and laughed harder. Matt scowled. He couldn’t find anything funny about what he said; quite the opposite, in fact.

 

“I was not born 32, you know, _d’yavol,_ ” Vladimir said with a snicker. “We were the same age when we dated, _mudak_.”

 

Nikolai raised an eyebrow and looked between Matt and Vladimir with a small smile on his face. “Are those really what you’re going to go with, Volodya? You are losing your touch.”

 

Vladimir, who had still been chuckling to himself, stopped with a choke. “ _Chto?”_

Matt felt out of the loop, and judging but the rising body heat coming off Vladimir in waves of embarrassment, it was a good loop to be a part of. “What’s he saying? It sounds embarrassing and I’d really like to have some leverage over you if you decide to be a dick.”

 

“I like him, Volodya,” Nikolai said with a laugh even as Vladimir threatened to let go of the disc. “You won’t,” he taunted.

 

As if to prove a point, Vladimir dropped the disc and dramatically fell over and starfished on the ground. “So, that was Niko. He is not usually so immature but he is also an asshole when he wants to be.”

 

Matt shook his head and got up to get himself a drink. He felt he could use one after the night he just went through. Even though it was late and he should really, _really_ kick Vladimir out, he just grabbed two beers out of his sparsely filled refrigerator and popped the tops off. It could all wait until the morning after some sleep. “Drink,” Matt commanded. “I’m not drinking alone so you’re gonna have to join me.”

 

Vladimir sat up and took a drink without question. “Good idea. We have both had a long night.”

 

They sat together quietly; Vladimir on the floor and Matt on the arm of the couch. The only sounds were that of the sirens still going on half a city away. “How does the magic disc work?” he asked. He tried not to ask but he couldn’t hold it back. He kept thinking of all the things he would ask his father if he could and he needed to know if it would be possible.

 

“I don’t know, actually. It was an accident that I found out at all. I don’t know the rules or who I can summon or if others can,” Vladimir answered with a heavy sigh. “We can try and see what happens if you would like.”

 

Matt could tell Vladimir was worried it wouldn’t work and, for some reason, that just made him more curious and determined to try. “We can try later. We need to focus for now on the bigger picture.” He was proud of himself for putting his own burning need to speak to his father on the back burner. “You can either stay or go, but I need to get to bed. I have to work in the morning.”

 

“Go. Sleep. I have some things to take care of. It takes work to ensure your enemy thinks you are dead.” Vladimir stood up and fidgeted around as if he was unsure how to continue. “May I give you my number so you can call if you need me for anything? Or before you go after Fisk on your own?”

 

Matt was going to deny that he had planned on doing just that but he would also be lying. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Vladimir. “Just program your name as something my phone can pronounce so when I tell it to call you it doesn’t blow up.”

 

“For that I will use something very complex,” Vladimir snarked while he added his number and then sent a message to himself. Matt could see Vladimir wave and hurry up the stairs.

 

“Jerk,” Matt grumbled as he gathered up the bottles to take them into the kitchen.

 

“ _Mudak_ ,” Vladimir called back with a cackle and a door slam.

 

Matt wondered if he was in over his head, but then he remembered the changes Fisk was making in Hell’s Kitchen and how people were suffering because of his greed. If he was able to help, he would make friends with the devil to do it. He felt the guilt creep back from where he had been keeping it bay since he first donned the mask; but he also felt the anger and rage of being unable to do something for the people who needed help. He knew if he didn’t do all he could that he would regret it.

 

_VLADIMIR. VLADIMIR._

 

“My phone still butchered your name,” Matt said in lieu of a greeting when his phone went off.

 

He could hear a crackle of static before Vladimir finally spoke. “Do all blind men kick ass or do I just find the only two?” Matt felt the blood drain out of his face while Vladimir spoke. He hadn’t sensed anyone come into his apartment but he could feel the disappoint from the top of the stairs. “ _D’yavol?_ Are you still there?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later,” Matt answered distantly. He wasn’t focused on the ex-mobster on the other end of the phone call. He was more interested in whatever excuse his old mentor would come up with for abandoning him.

 

“Didn’t know you were queer, Matty. Your boyfriend actually uses the door? You never used to let Ellie use the door,” Stick mocked. The endearment raised his hackles and it took every bit of discipline he had in his entire body to not immediately attack his teacher.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying Vladimir knows Natasha, but I'm not NOT saying that. 
> 
> Also, I'm scum and I literally have no excuse for not updating this until now. Hopefully you won't have to wait so long for the next one.
> 
> Also also - I'm considering writing an entire chapter from Niko's perspective. Would that be something anyone would be interested in? It would probably have a few flashbacks to more of Vladimir's past as well as an outsider's point of view of the boys and their interactions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we are introduced to a 'new' character, the boys get into some trouble, and Nikolai is equal parts done with their crap, entertained by their antics, and so tired of their obliviousness.

Nikolai heaved an unnecessary sigh – it was a habit he hadn’t been able to kick once he died – and slumped his shoulders. It was hard sometimes, to see everything going on but have no power to fix it.

 

Part of him felt sad when he heard Vladimir used an, admittedly, ridiculous and rude nickname; the rest of him was glad that he had found someone else to care for. He liked the blind man, he was enough of a calming influence but also hot-headed enough to go along with Volodya’s insane plan. He was glad Vladimir was trusting someone who wasn’t his brother for the first time in more than a decade.

 

But still….

 

Volodya was _his_. It hurt to share him with anyone. Yes, he was dead. Yes, he was angry with how the world ruined him and Volodya. Yes, he didn’t like the kind of person Volodya turned out to be wasn’t what he wanted for him. Volodya had been his best friend since they started school and the love of his life almost as long – it had just taken him too long to realize it.

 

This though – the blind vigilante had intrigued and enchanted Volodya – and the dummy hadn’t even realized it. He had never been the most observant person; but he was usually more self-aware than most.

 

He watched the awkward flirting for only a few more moments before he couldn’t stomach it anymore. If this was what he and Volodya were like it was no wonder they had been found out. “You were not that obvious, Nikolai,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

 

Nikolai whipped around and gasped. “Tolik!” he cried out as he launched himself at the older Ranskahov brother. It had taken a long time for him to accept the fact that Anatoly had a hand in his death even as far removed as he was. But after so long being the in-between of life and whatever lay beyond, he felt he could no long hold onto anger.

 

“You look the same,” Anatoly said, his voice laced with sadness and regret.

 

“You don’t age after you’ve died, silly.”

 

Anatoly hesitated like he wanted to ask something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he seemed to gather up the nerve to ask, “I thought I heard my brother earlier but he is not here. You were just with him.” He pointed up towards the tear between worlds where they were both privy to the ass beating Vladimir was dealt at the hands of an old blind man. Vladimir was sitting, half stunned, holding his bleeding nose while his phone was tucked between his shoulder and his hear.

 

“I don’t know how it works. One day I heard a call and I was pulled through the tear right there. When I first got here there was only the one; now there’s hundreds. I worry this place won’t last much longer.” Nikolai didn’t mean to unload on Anatoly, but he had gone so long without anyone to talk to that he couldn’t help but speak his worries and fears. The fact that it was Anatoly, the man he had always sort of looked to as an older brother just made it easier to let go. Now, however, the age gap was more the equivalent of a parent and child; but he didn’t let that stop him. The difference in age had always been significant but now it was almost painful to see. The last fifteen years had not been kind to either of the Ranskahov brothers, but Anatoly wore his age in his eyes and the lines around his mouth.

 

“Can I see him? Like you did?” he asked, sounding painfully young for a moment.

 

Nikolai shook his head and felt a phantom pang in his heart when Anatoly’s shoulders fell in defeat. “He has the ability to call but we can’t leave unless summoned. I’ve never seen anyone else here leave.” He paused for a moment, debating with himself on whether or not to continue before he decided that he couldn’t lie to Tolik just like he could never lie to Volodya. “You don’t have to answer; goodness knows I spent long enough not answering,” he confessed sadly.

 

Time was a funny thing after death. Minutes felt like hours but days could pass by in mere moments. It felt as though Nikolai had only been talking to Anatoly for a few minutes when he felt the warm glow of the other side as Volodya called to him. “Your brother is calling me. Should I tell him you’re ready to see him?”

 

Anatoly hesitated for a second too long and Nikolai could wait no longer to accept the call before the small window of time collapsed and he was unable to see him. He sent a mental ‘sorry’ to Anatoly for not waiting for an answer, but he felt that this call was important. He hadn’t been paying attention to the other side, but he could just feel that he couldn’t just ignore this call.

 

Nikolai was surprised to see that it had been longer than he expected between summons. When he appeared back on Earth he saw Vladimir laying on his side, his knees curled up towards his chest. He was lying side by side with the blind vigilante. They were covered in blood with deep wounds on their arms and chests – it was like something out of a nightmare. “Volodya!” he cried and knelt down next to Vladimir and, as gently as possible, searched for more injuries. “What happened, z _vezda moya?_ ”

 

Vladimir groaned and curled tighter in on himself. He managed to gasp out a name around a mouthful of blood which only served to worry Nikolai more than it answered anything.

 

“What happened?” he asked, this time in English. He wasn’t very comfortable with the language but he needed answers. “ _D’yavol!”_ he barked, panic creeping up his spine. Nikolai only just kept from yelling in frustration when all the vigilante gave him was the same name.

 

His posture relaxed when Vladimir sat up with a pained hiss. Even through the pain he managed to keep his hand wrapped around the silver disc; Nikolai was equal parts impressed and furious at him for it. He wanted nothing more than to be here to help (as limited as he was) but he also felt as though it was less for the extra help and more for something else. “You called me for what?”

 

Vladimir blinked slowly as if he was just waking up. “I wanted to say goodbye.” He turned to the masked man and checked to see how hurt he was. “Matvey, let me use your phone. You need Claire’s help.”

 

Nikolai didn’t know who ‘Claire’ was, nor did he care. He just knew that Vladimir needed to get the both of them to a fucking hospital, not calling some woman. “You called me because you thought you were dying?” he half-shrieked, his patience wearing thin.

 

Vladimir shook his head. “ _Nyet_. I am, Niko. I just need to make sure he survives to do what needs to be done.”

 

Nikolai was sad to hear the resignation color Vladimir’s already pained tone. It had sounded like he had accepted his fate and was just trying to assure their plain would continue. It was then that he knew he had truly, finally, lost the last of his hold on Vladimir’s heart. “Volodya,” he said, forcing the other blond to look away from the vigilante for a moment and focus on him. “You’re not going to die, my darling. But you know that this is just a shitty thing to do.”

 

“I just wanted to say goodbye and tell you I’m sorry,” he said after he spat out another mouthful of blood.

 

Nikolai stamped his feet, a childish gesture, but he felt as though he earned the right to be childish especially since Vladimir was going to be that way too. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

 

Vladimir shook his head, his eyes wide and wild. “But I do! Everyone I get close to dies!”

 

Nikolai felt his heart break. Years of guilt had obviously taken its toll on Vladimir – grown upon his guilt over his death as well as Anatoly’s more recent demise.

 

“And now Matvey is possibly dying because of me!” he barreled on even as he dialed the number for whoever ‘Claire’ was.

 

Nikolai could hear the desperation in Vladimir’s tone when he begged Claire to help him patch up the blind man. When he ended the call his shoulders sagged in relief. “The nurse is on her way, _d’yavol_ ,” he said to the vigilante’s back.

 

From his position next to Vladimir they were (for once) the same height. Nikolai leaned his head closer to Vladimir’s and rested his hand gently on his uninjured forearm. “Let me go,” he whispered. “Take care of him and yourself and call for me when you’re well again.”

 

Vladimir nodded and laid back down on the floor, closer to the vigilante than he had been. “Goodbye, Niko. I will talk to you soon.”

 

Nikolai didn’t like the way Vladimir had phrased his goodbye but there was nothing he could do about it. Between the space of one blink and the next, he found himself back in his own world. He was alone for the time being; but he was glad for the lack of company for once. He sat down and rested his head in his hands.

 

In all the time he had spent in the place after death, he had never once wondered what Vladimir had felt when he was unable to do anything when he had been beaten to death. He shook his head to try and dispel the image of Vladimir slowly bleeding out. Being helpless was not a good feeling. They had always been a team – different as they were but as close as could be – and even death and criminal backgrounds couldn’t change that. Nikoali really couldn’t stand being helpless when it was Volodya suffering.

 

He remembered sitting around the hospital after Vladimir broke his knee after falling down a set of narrow stairs after a fight; he thought that was the worst feeling in the world…until now when he saw him broken and bleeding and dying.

 

_Maybe this is what Volodya felt,_ he thought to himself. It caused him to curl up and bury his face in his knees and wrap his arms around his legs. If he were alive he would assume he was suffering from a panic attack; as it was, he had no name for the crushing feeling in his chest.

 

He felt like an idiot for telling Vladimir to let go, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to be the calming presence Vladimir needed at that moment. He gasped and looked up to dispel the phantom feeling of tears burning the back of his eyes. He blinked rapidly trying to get rid of the feeling. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of the vigilante (Matvey, Vladimir had called him) straddling Vladimir and forcing his heart to keep beating. A whine escaped Nikolai’s throat before he hurried away from the sight in hopes that the sudden feeling of nausea would disappear.

 

_Please God, don’t let him die,_ he prayed even though he no longer believed in God. All the same, he needed something to do or he would go mad.

 

He lost track of time again. The next thing he was aware of was the warm feeling of a summons – but it wasn’t Vladimir. It was hesitant and uncertain. _Nikolai? I don’t know how this works, but Vladimir –_

Nikolai appeared next to the vigilante who was holding onto the disc even as it still hung from Vladimir’s neck. He was sitting on the floor by Vladimir’s shoulder as he slept on an ugly leather couch that was torn across the back cushion. “ _D’yavol,”_ Nikolai greeted with a frown on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to the vigilante, but part of him blamed the auburn-haired man for Vladimir getting injured in the first place. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew Vladimir was an adult who could make his own choices; but the rational part of his brain was being silenced by his emotions.

 

“You can call me Matt,” he said with an awkward shrug.

 

“I will call you whatever you want but you need to tell me why you summoned me.”

 

Matt blushed and ducked his head. “You’re right, sorry. I – uh,” he paused and inched backwards so that he was resting more against Vladimir so he didn’t have to reach as far to hold onto the necklace. “I know he was supposed to call on you and let you know he was okay, but he didn’t. And he almost died. And I know, if I was in your position, I’d want to know that he was okay.” Matt said in a rush, without bringing his head up so that Nikolai could see his face.

 

“How long has it been since you were hurt?” Nikolai asked gently. He didn’t want there to be any animosity between them and a good way to keep it like that was to be nice to Vladimir’s friend/cohort/boyfriend/whatever.

 

“About a week ago. He’s finally healing up, but there’s something he’s not telling me.” Matt paused as if unsure how to continue. “We got into a fight recently and he said something and it – I don’t know how to take it.”

 

Nikolai hummed and nodded. “You want me to tell you if I know anything.” Matt nodded quickly and sat up a little straighter while being careful not to choke the sleeping man. “I cannot help you, I’m afraid. You will have to talk to him about it again. You’ll have to keep a cool head, he is very stubborn and if he will not tell you, you may just have to wait.” Nikolai sat down on the floor in front of Matt with a secretive smile on his lips. “The key to dealing with Volodya is patience. If you stop asking about it, he will eventually crack and need to tell you. Tolik and I used to do that to him if he refused to tell us something.”

 

Matt smiled softly and raised his head up. “You glow, you know.”

 

Nikolai, confused by the random statement, looked down at himself. “No, I don’t,” he replied with a confused frown on his face.

 

Matt reached out and traced a wide arch around Nikolai’s upper body. “It’s so bright it lets me see you and a little bit of what’s around you. It’s nice. I haven’t been able to really see since I was nine.” The soft smile held the bitter than of sadness and nostalgia but it was also genuine because he wasn’t hiding the complex emotions he was feeling.

 

He turned towards Vladimir as if he was trying to use the glow to see the sleeping man. “I don’t know what to do. He’s a mobster; he’s done a lot of bad shit. But I just – I don’t know. He’s trying to make things right and that takes a lot of courage.”

 

Nikolai wasn’t positive but he saw the look on Matt’s face; a look that he was very familiar with, and it made some part of him feel warm with affection for Matt and his big heart. “You are a good man, Matt.”

 

Matt shook head and shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment. “Before I let you go, will you tell me something?”

 

Nikolai hesitated, he was limited in what he was willing to say. “It depends on what it is,” he answered slowly.

 

“I was just wondering, and I know I’m gonna butcher the pronunciation so I’ll apologize in advance, but what does ‘ _sakharok’_ mean?”

 

Nikolai snorted inelegantly and tried to hide his laugh in his hand.

 

“What? Is it bad? He called me that a couple times, but he was feverish when he did it –“

 

Nikolai couldn’t hide his laugh anymore. Vladimir had gone and given him a pet name! A proper one at that. _Sakharok_ was much better than _d’yavol_ or _mudak_ that he had heard Vladimir call Matt before. “It’s not bad, I promise; but I don’t think I should tell you what it means.”

 

Matt pouted but seemed to accept it. “What about _mudak_? That one doesn’t seem as nice. “

 

“That means ‘asshole’ in English,” Nikolai answered, unable to keep the laugh out of his voice when Matt scowled and reached back as if he wanted to hit Vladimir before he seemed to realized he was secretly speaking to his dead lover while he slept. “He has a thing for ridiculous nicknames. I wouldn’t get mad at him for it.”

 

Matt heaved a sighed and shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ type of way. “We all have our quirks, I guess. Thanks for your help, Nikolai.”

 

“Of course, Matt. Take care of him for me. He’s useless when he’s on his own.”

 

Matt turned his head so that he was facing Vladimir again. “I’ll try my best but he’s definitely strong willed.”

 

“That is a word for it,” Nikolai said with a quiet laugh. He was actually surprised that Vladimir was still asleep. He hadn’t seen him sleep this soundly in years – perhaps even since he was alive. _He must really trust this guy_ , Nikolai thought to himself and felt a tinge of sadness curl around his chest. For Vladimir, trust meant more than almost anything and he finally, _finally_ found someone to trust after so long of being constantly on edge.

 

“Thank you, Nikolai. I’ll bully him into calling on you so he can tell you he’s okay himself,” Matt promised. Nikolai nodded and waved at Matt when he saw him begin to release the disc.

 

With his feet firmly placed back in own world, he turned away from the scene in front of him and jumped in surprise. Anatoly was looming over him like some kind of dark specter. “Tolik! You need to stop lurking. It wasn’t funny back then and it’s still not funny,” he complained while he smacked Anatoly on the chest for startling him. “Where did you go?”

 

Anatoly stayed silent for a while before he looked around as if making sure they were alone. “You need to come with me. I found someone you need to see.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the middle of the chapter - I reference something that could be triggering for people. It's not graphic but someone does mention being forced into non-consensual sex when they were underage. It isn't an explicit scene or even a flashback, but I don't want anyone being triggered.
> 
> Also, on an unrelated note: this chapter kinda got away from me. What started at like 4 pages hand written turned into almost 10 pages typed. Oops.

Vladimir woke to find himself alone for the first time in as long as he could remember. Staying with Matvey since Tolik had died kept the nightmares at bay, but that hadn’t been able to stick together the previous night. Not that he needed the company. He was fine by himself. He didn’t need to be around Matt all the time. So what if the other man’s presence made the nightmares go away? He wasn’t a child. He could deal.

 

Or, that’s what he told himself.

 

He shook his head to dispel the last wisps of his most recent dream. It was always disconcerting – waking up after a dream where he was forced to relive some of the more traumatic experiences he had already lived through.

 

Vladimir swung his legs around until his feet were resting on the cold concrete of his safe house; the only location Fisk and his goons didn’t manage to burn down. After a glance at the time on his phone, he figured he had wasted enough of the day.

 

Before he could stop himself, he had pulled up Matt’s contact information and hit the call icon.

 

“What do you want, Vladimir?” Matt asked Vladimir could practically see the small furrow in between his eyes.

 

“Have you eaten lunch?” Vladimir asked, attempting to be casual but failing.

 

Matt sighed heavily causing an excess of static to crackle across the connection. “Is this you checking up on – hold on.”

 

Matt had obviously covered his speaker with something but not enough that he was unable to hear the conversation going on in the background. The one word that stuck out the most was ‘girlfriend’; it made him chuckle. Perhaps it should have offended him, but he had been called worse in his lifetime.

 

When he was reconnected with Matt he could feel the embarrassment coming across the call. “Did I get you in trouble at work, cupcake?” he teased even as he mentally smacked himself for using an English pet name. Yes, it was still part of the teasing, but part of him worried that the other man would be able to recognize the fond tone that would sneak into his voice when he used pet names in Russian.

 

While he was beating himself up, Matt was apparently having no such crisis. “Of course not, muffin, “he replied back.

 

Vladimir gagged at the nickname. “At least go with something not food related. I already used muffin. Find your own.”

 

Matt hummed and Vladimir could hear a muffled ‘tap tap’ coming from the other end where Matt was drumming his fingers against his phone. “I guess ‘asshole’ is out of then question then.”

 

“ _Chto?_ What do you mean?” he choked on a groan and slumped into a heap on the floor where he hoped the ground would swallow him whole. “How did you know what I was calling you?”

 

He felt a little sick to his stomach with the thought that Matt may know any of the names he called him. He was so busy worrying that he almost didn’t hear the nervous laugh. “Don’t be mad at me,” Matt begged before there was a scrape of something heavy being pushed across the floor and a hasty goodbye that wasn’t directed towards the phone.

 

After a long pause where Vladimir heard a heavy door close and a lot of hurried footsteps down an echoing corridor before Matt put himself back on the phone. “Do don’t be made at me,” he said again, “but I may have contacted Nikolai to give him an update on you. You died – your heart stopped beating and I was worried that you weren’t going to come back – if I was in his shoes I’d want to know you were doing better.”

 

Vladimir wanted to be upset. He wanted to rage and be angry but he couldn’t. He knew that the vigilante was a good man and had only done what he felt was right. “And how does that allow you to understand Russian?” he asked slowly. He had a feeling he knew the answer to his question and he wasn’t very keen on getting an affirmative.

 

“I asked him what a few words you used often meant. That was the only one he would tell me.”

 

Vladimir growled and resisted the urge to summon Nikolai just to throttle him. He could only imagine the humiliating things Niko would gleefully share with Matt. “Well now you know how to call me an asshole. Anything else you would like to know?”

 

“Actually, you called me something else when you were running a fever. I can’t really remember what it was but it kinda sounded like _ska_ – something – _ra._ ”

 

Vladimir choked on nothing and prayed the floor would actually swallow his stupid ass and spit him out in a dimension where he didn’t basically confess his fucking feelings like an asshole. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not bad,” he answered in a rush. There was no mistaking what Matt was attempting to say; even though his pronunciation was awful, he knew that word.  He couldn’t believe that he would call Matt something as ridiculous as ‘sugar’ even when he was feverish. He had seriously lost any game he had ever possessed over the years. He knew he was in trouble but he was going to play dumb for as long as possible. “Anyway, have you eaten lunch?” he asked.

 

On the other end, he could hear a huff of laughter. “Alright, you have your secrets. Just know: I may just decide to learn Russian just so I know when you’re insulting me, muffin.”

 

Vladimir groaned. _Again, with the baked goods,_ he thought, half exasperated, half incredibly fond. “You are ridiculous and persistent, Matvey,” he said and cringed when his tone was far warmer than he wanted it to be. “Would you like to get burgers or something?”

 

“We can do that. Can you meet me at my apartment?” Matt replied after a brief pause where he obvious left whatever building he had been in if the cacophony of interfering sounds was anything to go by.

 

“Of course,” he agreed, already on his feet and fighting with his pants that were trying to trip him up. They hung up just in time for his phone to go flying as he lost his fight with his pants and fell in a tangled heap on the cold floor. “Fuck me,” he cursed at the high ceiling and let his head connect with the floor as punishment for his stupidity.

 

After finally getting himself situated and slightly put together so that he could pretend he hadn’t been sleeping until noon, he hurried down the street and toward Matt’s apartment on the other side of town.

 

~~~

Vladimir had to wonder, later, how they went from eating burgers to running for their lives from a group of Hand ninjas. Vladimir was not above putting a bullet between the eyes of each masked asshole but he really, _really_ didn’t want to open fire in the middle of a crowd. He was trying to be a better person, he really was, but he also wanted revenge for the rows of stitches both he and Matt were wearing.

 

“You realize,” he gasped out when they finally lost sight of their pursuers, “they’re going to report to Gao that I’m alive. We’ve lost the element of surprise now.”

 

Matt glared in his general direction and stood up, his head cocked at an angle as he listened for any clue that they were no longer alone. “You’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay. That must have tracked you from wherever you’re staying.”

 

“This is what I get for trying to be a good guy,” Vladimir complained. “I should have kept selling guns.’

 

“And people,” Matt added unhelpfully.

 

“ _Nyet._ That was Tolik’s part of the business. More profitable, he said. I did not have the stomach for it.” He closed his eyes tightly against the onslaught of memories and rushing nausea that the ghost of harsh, bruising touches always left him fighting. He didn’t even realize his breathing had sped up until the cautious weight of a hand between his shoulder blades shook him from the past.

 

“Breathe!” Matt commanded. “Sow your breathing before you pass out.”

 

Despite the gentle command, Vladimir couldn’t control the rapid inhaling his body was doing without his permission. He knew this was a terrible situation to be suffering an anxiety attack in, but he couldn’t force himself to take the deep, measured breathes he needed to. His stupid ass was going to get them bot killed because he couldn’t handle talking about other aspects of his old empire without being reduced to a quivering mess.

 

His breath hissed through his clenched teeth painfully as his vision began to grey out. He was saved from a humiliating fainting spell by a sharp slap across the face. It was enough of a shock to trip his breathing back to normal. “What was that for?” he hasped out as he rubbed at his stinging cheek.

 

“Sorry,” the blind man said although his tone didn’t convey any apology. “I heard that a surprise can make someone’s breathing regulate. It was either hit you or kiss you and you’ve already met your quota of kisses from me.”

 

_Ouch._ He felt like he had been slapped again.  “Well, thank you all the same,” he said instead of what he was really thinking. He straightened up and rolled his shoulders and hips to relieve the tension that had settled there during his anxiety attack. He hated the tightness that was still lingering in his chest but there was nothing he could do but wait for it to fade.

 

After a beat of silence in which they started moving again, Matt finally seemed to crack under the curiosity. “What brought that on?”

 

Vladimir carefully weighed his options before he finally decided to tell Matt part of the story – over a drink. “Is not a nice story,” he croaked out. “I will tell you only if you indulge me and my day drinking habits.”

 

He could see it, the moment Matt conceded to his request, with a subtle shrug and nod. “I’ve already missed out on most of the afternoon running from ninjas. May as well call it a wash and have a drink.”

 

Vladimir raised an eyebrow. “Really? You will not get in trouble for not going back?” He knew, logically, that his companion had decided to stay with him for longer, but he also was sure that he was going to be denied.

 

“I work with my best friend at our own practice. He’ll give me hell but it gives him time to flirt with Karen where I don’t have to hear it.”

 

Vladimir didn’t know who ‘Karen’ was but he didn’t miss the slight bitterness in his tone when he spoke about their flirting. “Do you care about this Karen?” he asked while trying (and failing) to not sound nosy.

 

Matt shrugged and flapped his hands around like he was unsure of just how to respond. “Yes,” his response had an upward inflection that turned the statement into a question. “No? I don’t know. Foggy really likes her so I’m trying to back off.”

 

They walked along in silence after that until they were back at Matt’s apartment door. “I have been in the refrigerator and I think there’s still some of that bottle of swill you call liquor from the other day.”

 

Vladimir had nearly forgotten about his stash of Vodka he had left on Matt’s counter before he went back to his safe house. “You drink your beer. I drink my Vodka,” he said as he twisted the cap off the glass bottle and swallowed a mouthful before he sat down at Matt’s table. He didn’t bother with a glass, he knew Matt couldn’t drink it due to the biting taste of the fermented potatoes so the bottle was all his.

 

Matt sat across the table from him and popped the top off one of his micro-brew beers.  The silence that settled around them was awkward and heavy but Vladimir couldn’t bring himself to break it. Instead, he tilted his head back and drank until he could feel the burn in the back of his throat. It wasn’t enough. He really, _really_ didn’t want to talk about his panic attack – but he also thought that maybe it would be good for him to finally talk about what happened in prison. He couldn’t even manage to tell his brother.

 

“So,” Matt said slowly, drawing out the single syllable awkwardly. He was fidgeting with the corner of the label on the bottle. “Do you wanna tell me what was up with you earlier that you almost hyperventilated while were running from ninjas?”

 

Vladimir sighed and swallowed down what was left of the liquor. It wasn’t enough to force the story out, but he would at least try. “I, uh – the first time I went to jail I was barely 17.” He thumped his head down onto the heavy wood table and tried to force out what he needed (but didn’t want) to say. Before Matt could interrupt and Vladimir’s gut tangled up in knots, he started to spill the entire story of his incarnation.

 

He didn’t realize there were tears in his eyes until he blinked and they fell down his cheeks. He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but for the first time he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t like Matt did anything more than just sit and listen and let Vladimir babble. It took a long time to force out the entire story starting from Niko’s death to his time in prison and then to his steady rise through the ranks once Anatoly was able to negotiate his release. With another slightly hysterical laugh he finished his story with “I was 23 the first time I had sex that was actually consensual.”

 

Matt’s breath hitched and he made an aborted move in Vladimir’s direction but seemed to think better of it. He wouldn’t have minded the contact. He felt broken open and raw – any type of contact from a friend would have been welcomed – but he wasn’t going to force it. Matt reached out and wrapped a hand around Vladimir’s wrist. It was nice - warm and inviting and comforting.  “Jesus Christ,” Matt said at last. “Vladimir, I – Jesus.”

 

“Please just drop it, Matvey. I haven’t ever talked about that before and I really just want to – “Vladimir paused and looked longingly at the empty bottle in front of him – willing it to refill although it refused to do his bidding.

 

“Get hammered?” Matt filled in, his voice watery as if he were trying to hold back tears.

 

Vladimir nodded before he remembered that Matt couldn’t actually see. “ _Da._ I would like that.” He stood up to go out and get enough alcohol to drown himself in but he suddenly felt dizzy. He didn’t know if it was the Vodka or the trip to the past, but one way or another, he was more drunk than expected. He took a deep breath, wiped his face, and waited for the swooping in his gut to stop and hurried out with a quick “be right back” to Matt who hadn’t had time to get up from his seat.

 

He used the time away from Matt to mentally beat himself up. He couldn’t believe he had broken down while telling his story. It had been his own fault for being mouthy and young and not nearly as tough as he thought he was. His inner voice, that sounded oddly like Niko, piped up and tried to fight with his self-loathing inner monologue. _It’s not your fault. You were a victim_ , the voice said until Vladimir shut it up with a firm shake of his head. He probably looked insane but he was running out of fucks to give.

 

Armed with two handles of dark, woodsy whiskey (the cheap Smirnoff hadn’t done anything so he decided to try a different approach) and a six-pack of a cherry flavored beer for Matt, Vladimir hurried back to Matt’s apartment while keeping an eye out for anyone that looked to be following him.

 

Matt had moved to the couch in his absence. Vladimir stepped out of his boots and handed the six-pack to Matt and opened one of his bottles of Wild Turkey – chosen due to the higher alcohol content – and sat down, taking up his half of the couch in an elegant sprawl. “You know,” he said after a long silence where they drank and listened to the sounds of the city, “I may have been angry at the time about getting butchered, but at least uglying up my face makes me scary looking. No one wants to fuck with me now.”

 

Matt made a questioning noise around his beer. “Butchered? Did I miss something before when we were fighting Nobu and the Hand ninjas?” he sounded worried and suddenly appeared in Vladimir’s face as if he could suddenly see if he got close enough. He reached out and gently started to move the tips of his fingers across Vladimir’s face. He went cross-eyed trying to keep Matt’s fingers in focus until he just decided to close his eyes and let Matt do whatever it was he was doing.

 

Finally, his fingers brushed over the scar that had narrowly missed his eye. “I was in a fight while in Utkin and he tried to gouge out my eye with a shiv,” he said with a shiver. He was only mildly confused by the slight increase in pressure as Matt continued to run his fingers over his face. “What are you doing?”

 

It seemed to be enough to shake Matt out of wherever he had gone to in his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get up in your face! It’s just the way I can ‘see’ what people look like,” he explained as he backed off slowly.

 

Emboldened by the alcohol freely flowing in his system, he reached out and stopped Matt’s retreat with a gentle hand to Matt’s elbow. “I just wanted to know. You can keep going but I have no idea why you want to- “

 

Matt shushed him and ran a finger against the grain of Vladimir’s facial hair – it was getting unruly and ridiculous but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it in over a week. “I know your eyes are blue, but what color is your hair? I know what all my other friends look like except you.”

 

Vladimir was slightly surprised to hear Matt freely use the word ‘friend’ to describe their relationship but tried his hardest not to react to it. “Blond,” he admitted after he quietly enjoyed the feeling of Matt’s slightly clumsy fingers threading through his hair.

 

“I knew it,” Matt said triumphantly before he sat back and picked up another bottle of the cherry beer Vladimir had gotten him. “You’re so, I dunno, you just act like a blond.”

 

_What did that mean?_ Vladimir asked himself before realization hit him. “Did you just call me dumb? That’s a thing in America, right? Dumb blond?”

 

Matt’s horror stricken face made up for the comment. “It – that is _not_ what I meant!” The flush that crawled up his neck and across his cheeks was unfairly attractive. Matt pouted when Vladimir could no longer keep a straight face and started to laugh. “Asshole.”

 

“Is part of my charm,” Vladimir countered with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch and contentedly finished the bottle of Wild Turkey.

 

“Yeah, you’re charming alright,” Matt said after he finished his beer. It didn’t sound sarcastic. In fact, from the look on his face, Vladimir figured Matt hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

 

Sometimes Vladimir had tact. Sometimes he knew when to keep his mouth shut. This was one of those times. He pretended he hadn’t heard Matt’s quiet confession and stretched his arms above his head and scooted further into the couch. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight? I will look for somewhere else to stay in the morning when I am a bit more sober.”

 

Matt nodded quickly before he screwed up his nose and wrapped his arms around his head. “Oh, when did I get drunk?”

 

Vladimir glanced towards the coffee table to where his unopened bottle rested amongst the entire six-pack and the two beers from before. “Maybe sometime in the last hour and a half when you went through eight beers. Are you a light weight?” he teased even as he stood up to pull Matt to his feet. “You need to go to sleep.”

 

“It’s early,” Matt whined and forcefully sat back down in protest.

 

Vladimir couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wrapped Matt’s arm around his shoulder and walked Matt towards his bedroom. “Sleep,” he commanded gently and dumped Matt onto his bed.

 

“Stay,” Matt asked while he wrapped himself around Vladimir’s shoulders.

 

He was convinced that Matt was sent to torment him for every wrong thing he had ever done. There was no way to break Matt’s hold without sending him falling to the floor – and that, he decided, wouldn’t be a nice thing to do to his intoxicated friend. Instead, he figured he could deal with the absolute hell that this night would likely be. “Good night, _dorogoy,_ ” he said into Matt’s hair even though he knew Matt was already asleep.

 

Hell, certainly. But he honestly couldn’t imagine anywhere else he wanted to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new face appears and people are sick of Matt's oblivious face.

Chapter 6

Matt woke up with a throbbing behind his eyes and a warmth across his torso and his right side. His mind was still muddled due to the alcohol from the night before and the frankly ridiculous amount of sleep he had gotten. It took him a long minute to to realize that he wasn't alone in his bed and that he and his bed mate weren't alone in the room. 

“Is there something you want to tell me, Matt?” That was definitely Foggy. 

“Go away, Foggy. I'm sleeping,” he complained and mindlessly curled closer to the solid line of heat next to him. 

The arm that was around his middle moved and threw something heavy sounding towards Foggy with a Russian curse. Matt’s unseeing eyes snapped open as a wave of panic washed over him. Shit, he mentally slapped himself across the face when he realized the warm, surprisingly comfortable body he was cuddling was none other than Vladimir Ranskahov. 

“What the hell, man?” Foggy squacked out. Matt wasn't sure who the exclamation was directed to until he continued his tirade. “How long have you had a big, scary boyfriend you didn't tell me about? What else have you been keeping from me?”

Matt winced both from the volume and the question - he was keeping things from his best friend. 

“He moonlights as a vigilante crime fighter,” Vladimir grouched before he collapsed back onto the bed and buried his head under Matt”s spare pillow. 

“Your boyfriend is funny,” Foggy said, but the way he said it sounded like he meant something else entirely - sarcasm was basically Foggy’s second language. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Matt argued. “Wouldn't I tell you if I was seeing someone?” Would he? He had let Foggy think what he wanted about Claire and had only mentioned his flings in passing. 

He heard Vladimir huff a laugh from under the pillow. “Not helping, mudak,” he groused even as he realized he had slipped in the Russian swear. Obviously he had spent too much time around Vladimir recently. 

“You are not helping yourself, Cupcake.”

Foggy made a noise somewhere between a shriek and a croke. “This is the guy you snuck out to see yesterday?”

Matt sighed heavily and sat up. He was grateful that he hadn't been wasted enough to strip out of his clothes before he (somehow) made it to bed the previous evening. He knew Foggy already had the wrong idea; if he would have been even the slightest bit undressed there would have been no convincing Foggy that there was nothing going on between himself and Vladimir. 

The bed shifted when Vladimir sat up as well. “Tell him, “ the Russian whispered, his lips barely a centimeter away from Matt’s ear. “Do not make a mistake by keeping secrets. Trust me.” 

Matt nodded and felt a warm rush of gratitude towards the ex-mobster who was resting a comforting hand on his spine. It didn't make the swooping nerves in his gut stop any. “Actually, Foggy, there is something I wanna tell you. If you’ll wait a minute I'll tell you on the way into the office.” He then turned towards Vladimir to address him. “Feel free to stay here today. We’ll find you a place to stay tomorrow when our office is closed.

Without waiting for a reply from either of his friends, he got up and made his way to his closet to exchange his wrinkled shirt and pants for clean ones. 

The silence was unbearably awkward while he got dressed - although he didn't expect anything else. Worlds colliding was always an awkward experience. “I'll be back later, Vladimir. Come on, Foggy - if we leave now we can get coffee that isn't made by Karen.”

Foggy fell into step behind Matt and immediately started talking a mile a minute as soon as they were through the door. 

Matt was having a hard time sifting through Foggy’s rant. “Foggy, buddy, hold on; I need to get this out before I lose my nerve. “

It was like a dam broke somewhere inside his chest. Everything came out; everything from his accident as a kid and what it actually did to him; Stick and his twisted teaching methods; needing an outlet for his anger; it all came spilling out. It was cathartic, but he almost wished Vladimir was there too. He didn't know if he could get through the whole story again, but Foggy also deserved to hear it alone - he needed to be the first person Matt told. 

“Okay, let me get this straight: you go running around at night beating up criminals because you can actually kinda see?” Foggy didn't seem upset about it - just concerned - but Matt could still hear the hurt in his tone. “So what does that have to do with your not-boyfriend, Mr. Tall, Blond, and Scary?”

Matt floundered for a moment. How was he supposed to explain Vladimir without sounding like he lost his mind? “He wants to help me take down Wilson Fisk. He was an inside man and is trying to obtain information so we can take Fisk down and throw him in jail.”

Foggy hummed and ordered their coffee without comment. Once they we're back to walking down the crowded sidewalk, he finally said something. “Okay, but you really can't be that oblivious.”

Matt frowned and cocked his head to the site to try and hone in on Foggy’s heartbeat to listen for any physical clues as to what Foggy was talking about. 

“Seriously, you're too damn smart to be this dumb.” Matt remained quiet, too confused to add anything to the conversation. “Oh my God, you really have no clue! I just met the guy and I know!”

Matt felt like he was missing some critical part of their interaction from earlier that morning. Unless he was talking about - “Oh, shit! You’ve got it all wrong! We passed out after having a few drinks! We didn't - there's nothing -”

Foggy started to laugh - it was both amused and irritated at the same time. “No, you idiot just - just pay attention to him the next time you guys are together,” he said cryptically. 

They continued on in silence. Matt could tell that Foggy was itching to keep goading him but was also a good enough of a friend to keep his mouth shut. “Hey Foggy,” he called quietly before they went through the front door of their office building, “can you not tell Karen about me?”

“What? That you're the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Or that you're so deep in the closet that you're finding Narnia?”

Matt pouted at Foggy and flipped him off with a good natured shove. “You're hilarious,” he complained. 

Karen greeted them with a stack of folders and a handful of meetings scheduled throughout the morning. Matt had a feeling she was doing it on purpose to keep them from noticing that she would duck out of the office every hour or so. He didn't want to listen in on her phone calls but sometimes the odd phrase would stick out. He even heard his own moniker used during one call. He worried, but he knew Karen could handle herself well enough. Hopefully. 

\--

Matt counted down the minutes until closing time when he was free to go back home and tell Vladimir that Karen was also digging into Fisk’s past - maybe he would have some insight that Matt could let slip to Karen. 

He ignored Foggy’s gentle teasing about going home to ‘lover boy’ instead of going out for drinks with them. He felt his ears burn in embarrassment but didn't rise to the bait. Foggy was just giving him hell, just like he knew would happen, but part of him still didn't know how he felt about the entire thing. Vladimir wasn't a good man, but he was trying to be better and that meant a lot - but that didn't have to mean anything after their alliance had reached it's conclusion. Yes, for some crazy reason he considered Vladimir to be a friend, but he also he knew that he shouldn't do so. 

He groaned and shook his head. He was still suffering the effects of trying to keep up with a Russian while drinking. He was going to use that as his excuse for his actions over the past 9 hours. 

Stupid, confusing Russian, he complained to himself even as he smiled when the slow, steady heartbeat of a sleeping man reached his sensitive ears. “Honey, I'm home,” he called out obnoxiously loud once he opened the door. 

Vladimir startled and fell off the couch in shock. Matt couldn't help but snicker at him even as he felt bad for startling him. “Mudak,” Vladimir growled unhappily. 

“It's why you like me.”

He didn't expect a response and he didn't get one - at least not verbally. Vladimir's heartbeat ratcheted up by about ten beats per minute before it slowly settled back down. 

“I bought you food,” Vladimir said without preamble. “You only had ketchup and old lettuce in your refrigerator.” It was an oddly sweet gesture and Matt found himself touched by it. “I also bought you a crock pot. I wanted real food so I made a roast. It should be done soon.”

It was all very domestic, the shopping and cooking, and it made Matt felt warm all over knowing that there was an addition to the small circle of people who cared about and took care of him. He inhaled deeply and felt the warmth of the meat, veggies, and spices wash over him. “Thanks,” he said quietly as he drifted slowly into his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes. 

In the other room Matt could hear Vladimir clanging around, no doubt searching for plates and silverware of which his supplies were limited. 

By the time he was done getting changed Vladimir had cut up the roast and dished out the vegetables into a bowl he had found somewhere. He works fast, Matt mused to himself and slumped down onto a chair and rested his head on the table. “You’re an angel,” Matt sighed gratefully when Vladimir set a steaming, fragrant plate down close enough for Matt to eat without moving but far enough away that he didn't knock anything over in his attempt to reach his fork. 

“Liar,” Vladimir countered, but Matt could hear the smile in his voice. 

Matt took a bite and let his eyes slip shut as he made vaguely inappropriate noises around the mouthful. “Oh God,” he said after his mouth was no longer full. “You need to stay here and cook for me. This is fucking fantastic.” He began shoveling food into his mouth at a rapid pace. Over the scraping of his fork across the plate Matt caught the accelerated heartbeat slow back down. That made the second time in just a few minutes that Vladimir’s heart rate sped up and slowed down. “Are you okay?” Matt asked and cringed as he spoke with his mouth full. 

“Fine,” Vladimir croaked out, not sounding the least bit convincing. “Slow down. You are going to choke and I have never performed the Heimlich maneuver.”

Matt chewed obnoxiously and swallowed as loudly as possible before he stuck his tongue out at his companion. 

“You are disgusting,” Vladimir complained. Even though his heart rate had slowed down to closer to his normal speed Matt could still detect an uptick in it. 

“And your heartbeat is all over the place. Are you sure you're feeling alright?”

“Yes, dorogoy, I'm fine. Just nervous that you are going to choke and die on me.”  
Matt heard the lie but decided to let it go. At least he would stop bothering Vladimir about it. Instead, he kept his senses tuned to Vladimir throughout the rest of dinner. 

He was disappointed when he couldn't figure out much of anything since he actively started paying attention. He was cursing Foggy for making him too curious for his own good. 

They continued eating in a comfortable silence until a thought crossed his mind. He tried to ignore it but once the idea struck he found he couldn't just ignore it and hope it went away. “Hey, Vladimir. Would it, um - would it be okay if we tried to contact my dad through the disc thing?”

Vladimir stopped eating and put his fork down. Through his firey vision he could see the Russian reach under his shirt and pull out the leather cord that was tied to the small, flat disc. Matt was surprised that Vladimir removed the necklace entirely and handed it over. “I cannot guarantee anything, but you are more than welcome to try.”

Vladimir stood and quickly washed his plate before he made a step towards the living room. “Wait! Can you stay? Just in case it doesn't work?”

There was no verbal answer but the large, warm hand on his shoulder was enough. 

“Jack Murdock?” Matt called tentatively into the empty space. It was quiet for a moment where Matt tightened his grip on the engraved disc in anxiety. 

He had almost given up on it working before a familiar shimmer appeared before his father was standing in his kitchen blinking rapidly as if confused about the change in scenery. “Matt?” his father croaked out and made an aborted step towards his son. Matt stood up so quickly that he knocked his chair back into Vladimir in his haste to get to his father as quickly as possible. 

With just a foot between them Matt stopped, unsure whether or not to reach out and try to hug his father after twenty years. 

During his pause Vladimir came up to stand next to him. “You can touch them. Just do not let go if the disc until you are ready to say ‘goodbye’.” Then, louder, he addressed both Murdocks, “I will give you some space. Matvey, come and get me if you need me.” With that, Vladimir moved away and out to the roof access Matt was grateful for the alone time, but it also terrified him. He had wished for years for the chance to talk to his dad again but now that he could do so he couldn't bring himself to just open his mouth and speak. 

“I've missed you, dad,” he said quietly his voice thick with the emotions caught in his throat. 

His father made a wounded noise before he closed the gap between the two of them. Jack buried his face in Matt's hair and wrapped his arms tightly around his shoulders. “You've gotten so big, kiddo. I'm so sorry for everyth-”

Matt cut his dad off with a hard shake of his head. “No, I'm sorry. If I hadn't wanted you to win so badly none of this would have happened.” It was nice, in a way, releasing all the guilt over his father's death he had been carrying for years. 

His father didn't say anything. He released Matt from his iron grip and wiped his face dry. Matt hadn't noticed he had allowed a few tears to escape from his tightly held control. “So what did you decide to do with yourself? You look good, kiddo.”

Matt didn't miss the obvious subject change. He could take the hint - it was obvious that they both exclusively blamed themselves for everything that happened and neither of them were about to change their opinion. “I'm a lawyer. My friend and I opened our own practice not too long ago. He left out the part about fighting crime at night and going up against a kingpin trying to take over the city - there was no point in making him worry about something Matt wasn't willing to stop doing. 

“A lawyer!” His dad didn't sound surprised, just proud. He clapped Matt on the shoulder and beamed at him. “And the guy? Is he your -” his dad fished around for a word. Matt was half tempted to spare him the awkward floundering, but he also wanted to hear what he would say. Jack Murdock had always been a ‘live and let live’ person, but Matt found himself nervous all the same. It wasn't like there was anything between himself and Vladimir but he wanted to know - just for piece of mind. “Partner? Boyfriend? I don't know what the right term is anymore.”

Matt sighed I knew it, he thought to himself. “What is it with people and thinking we’re together?” he complained. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at his dad much, the same way he did as a boy. 

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “It's the way you two act around each other, son. Maybe you didn't notice it,” he trailed off and looked sad for a moment before he brightened up again. “Well, whatever you guys are, as long as he makes you happy, I don't care.” 

Matt felt a hint of a blush creep across his cheeks at his father's blatant disregard for his denial. To make matters worse, Vladimir chose that moment to reenter the kitchen on his way to the refrigerator. 

“Oh, I aim to make him very happy. Isn't that right, medvezhonok?” Vladimir teased while smooshing Matt’s cheeks and cackling like the mad man he was before he poured himself a drink and wandered back out the way he came. 

“I hate you!” Matt called to his retreating back. Vladimir only laughed louder and waved towards the duo. Matt kept track of is footsteps until they stopped and he sat on Matt's couch with his feet propped up on the table. “And get your feet off my damn table!” He turned towards his father to apologize only to find him shaking with surpressed laughter. 

“Teddy bear?” Jack asked, loud enough for the Russian to hear. 

From his place on the couch, Vladimir choked on his drink. 

“You understand Russian?” Matt squeaked. 

His dad shrugged. “It's a popular second language in Hell’s Kitchen. I picked up a lot of it over the years.”

Matt glowered in Vladimir's direction. “I definitely hate you now.”

“On, don't be like that, Matty,” his dad said with another laugh. 

Matt was outnumbered and he knew it. “Are you two quite done yet?”

“Don't be angry, Matvey,” Vladimir whined pitifully but made no move to do anything else. 

Matt's shoulders slumped and he felt around for a chair and sat down in an ungraceful heap. All of a sudden he felt drained and wrung out. He wasn't expecting to be so exhausted after talking to his father. 

Jack seemed to sense this - he looked worried. “Why don't you let me go and we'll talk again later.”

Matt was loathed to let him go, but he felt raw and on edge - he wanted to crawl in the shower then sleep for a week. “Okay. I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, kiddo.” Jack wrapped an arm around Matt's shoulders in a loose hug. “Take care of yourself and him too.” His father pointed to his friend with a sly smile.

“You're terrible,” Matt complained with a smile. “I'll talk to you later, dad.”

Matt let go of the disc and watched the bright outline of hisfather fade and then disappear. His vision dimmed back to the firey red he was used to. He stood and felt weak in the knees. He was grateful that Vladimir was vigilant and was next to him to help keep Matt on his feet. “Thanks,” he said wearily and allowed Vladimir to lead him to the couch. “Is it always that draining to talk to the dead? I didn't notice it so much with Nikolai.”

Vladimir didn't seem to have an answer if the slight shrug was anything to go off of. “I have never noticed, but you have been carrying a lot of guilt, Matvey.”

Matt was too tired to argue, especially when he was right (as much as it pained him to admit it). He sat down on the couch and tilted his head back to rest it against the cushion. “I'm gonna rest for a bit,” Matt said and then tapped at Vladimir's arm to get his attention to pass the disc back to it's owner. “Thanks for this.”

Vladimir said something but Matt was already asleep. 

\---

He woke to, the sound of hushed vloices. He stayed still and pretended to be asleep; he wasn't eavesdropping, per say, but he heard his name in the warm cadence of accented English Vladimir and his visitor we're speaking in. The voice was a lower pitch than Nikolai so Matt assumed it was his brother. 

The warm heat of Vladimir's hand absently running through Matt's floppy hair was soothing but not enough to lull him back to sleep. 

“You are being obvious, brother,” the spirit said. The glow was bright enough that Matt could see it through his closed eyelids. Anatoly was seated at the edge of the coffee table with his forearms resting on his knees. 

Next to him, Vladimir crowd lightly and stopped playing with Matt's hair. He didn't remove his arm from where it had been resting across Matt's shoulders while he had been proping him up as he slept. “He is oblivious, Tolik. Besides, he isn't interested.” Vladimir sounded sad and resigned and it broke Matt’s heart a little. He was surprised that Vladimir was attracted to him, and more surprised that he had no intention of ever telling him about his feelings. 

“Giving up so soon, Vovo?” Anatoly teased meanly. It seemed to Matt that there was a little bit of animosity between the brothers. 

“Fuck you, Tolik,” Vladimir countered. Matt could hear the hurt coloring the heavily accented phrase. “If you are going to be a dick I'll send you back to where you came from.”

Matt hadn't heard much of the conversation between the brothers but he already couldn't take much more of Anatoly’s bullying tone directed at his friend. There was nothing he could do about it while he was pretending to be asleep so he decided it was time to wake up. Vladimir had been there for him; it was time to return the favor. 

He shifted and sat up straight with an exaggerated yawn. “What time is it?” He asked around another yawn - real this time. 

“Almost 8,” Vladimir answered quietly. “I was going to, wane you soon and make you move to your bedroom.”

Matt nodded sleepily and then pretended to just notice their company. “Oh! Hello!” he greeted with the most charming smile he could muster. “I'm Matt. Who’re you?”

Anatoly stuttered for a moment over his own name. “I am his older, better, brother,” Anatoly said with a smirk. 

Vladimir stiffened beside him - Matt could almost smell the nerves, anxiety, and anger coming off of Vladimir in waves. It was almost like he expected Matt to agree with Anatoly’s statement. “I don't know about that,” Matt replied slowly, tapping his fingers against his chin. “I'm partial to blonds.”

Both Ranskahov brothers choked and Anatoly howled in laughter. “I like him, Volodya.” 

“Do not call me that,” Vladimir countered automatically. 

Matt was instantly curious as to why the blond Russian had such an intense reaction to the nickname but he wisely kept his mouth shut. He really didn't want to make Vladimir more upset than he obviously already was. Matt felt bad that Vladimir, who had wanted to speak to his brother so badly, and was now upset and uncomfortable with what he and his brother had been discussing before he had woken up and while he pretended to be asleep. 

Part of him really wanted to stir things up - a large part of him, actually - and when he was tired he found that his more devilish side won out. “I'm going to head to bed. Are you coming, Vladimir?”

Anatoly did a double take between Matt and his brother. He settled on Matt's smiling face and started muttering to himself in Russian.

Vladimir caught on to what Matt was doing after the not so subtle flick to the burly Russian’s ribs. “Actually, yes. It has been a long day and I need time to go over what you said, I think.” He stood up and rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I will try to figure out a way to help you if I can.”

Anatoly nodded and said goodbye before he faded away, and with him, Matt's clear vision faded again. 

“Thank you, Matvey,” Vladimir said quietly, his voice tight but sincere. “I do not like arguing with my brother but sometimes he can be a dick.”

Matt nodded. “Family is like that. Foggy is like my brother and you saw how we behave around each other.”

Vladimir sat back down and tried to get comfortable on the couch again but seemed to have no luck. “How dd I sleep on this couch for so many nights?” he wondered aloud as he continued to fidget around. 

“For God’s sake, just crash in bed with me. We managed just fine last night,” Matt told him, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “But first I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course, dorogoy. What do you need?”

Matt hesitated for a before he got up and gathered all the information he had managed to collect (steal) about Fisk and his network. He had briefly considered doing this himself considered doing this himself but he knew it would be more beneficial for Vladimir to deliver it. “I need you to drop this off at my office and tell them you have evidence to turn over about Wilson Fisk regarding some illegal activities.” 

“Your office? Are you a lawyer or something?” Vladimir teaser then made a surprised noise when Matt nodded in agreement. “A lawyer that moonlight's as a vigilante hero?” 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Matt said with a mock frown. He was trying not to smile at the irony of his life. “But will you do it? I can't just magically come up with this evidence that is obviously illegally obtained. If you come in and say you want to turn the evidence over, we can actually use it in court. I don't think Foggy will be there this late, but Karen has a habit of going back to the office after hours.”

Vladimir took the stack of files from Matt's hands and went to stand up. “I will be back soon. After, if you are still awake, I would like to talk to you about something Tolik brought up.”

Matt wondered if it had anything to do with the small part of the conversation he had overheard earlier. “I'll try to stay awake, if not, feel free to wake me up.”

Vladimir scoffed and said, “not likely, Cupcake.” Matt gave him the address and basic instructions to get to the office andsent him on his way. Vladimir stopped after a few steps. “If she is not there, what should I do?”

Matt honestly hadn't thought about that. “Wait until Monday, I guess. There's nothing we can do about it until then.”

Vladimir hesitated again, at the door this time. “Are you sure you want me involved in this?” He asked hesitantly.

Not really, Matt thought to himself, worry curling around in his chest like a snake. Instead of voicing any of his thoughts he said, “I wouldn't have given you those if I wasn't sure.”

Later, after Vladimir's footsteps passed out of his range of hearing, Matt realized he hadn’t lied to Vladimir - he was sure about giving Vladimir a chance for redemption. It may be part of his original plan, but plans change and so do people. He would worry about consequences later should they arise.


	7. Chapter 7

Karen had been sitting at a large desk surrounded by papers and boxes – Vladimir felt bad for a moment for adding to her workload, but that guilt was gone the moment she jumped up and took the stacks of files from his hands before he could even stutter out the lie Matt had told him to repeat. She had effectively dismissed him by turning her back on him, but Vladimir was unsure if she would need anything else from him. “Do I leave my number for you?”

She jumped as if she was surprised that he was still there. “Oh, please,” she said with a sly smile that set him on edge. “I know exactly how to get in touch with you. Foggy told me all about Matt’s scary new _friend_.” The way she said the word ‘friend’ made Vladimir feel oddly exposed as if she could see his feelings for the blind lawyer plainly displayed on his face.

Vladimir’s throat clicked audibly but he nodded instead of allowing any of his anxiety to show. “Well then, you know how to reach me.” He turned to walk away and stopped when he caught sight of a handgun sitting in an open filing cabinet “Will you make sure you all stay safe?” he asked. The gun made him feel equal parts at ease and nervous, she was obviously able to take care of herself, but she also seemed incredibly on edge. “Fisk and his group are dangerous and I do not think Matvey takes it seriously enough.” His eyes trailed over the open cabinet again before he deliberately closed it to accentuate his point.

She looked surprised at his request but nodded and offered him a small smile. “I will. I wouldn’t let anything happen to Foggy and Matt,” she vowed with a hard edge shaping her softly voiced promise.

He returned her small smile and rapped his knuckles against the cabinet. “Be sure to store that unloaded and that you have a permit. If not, I can, uh, _dispose_ _of it_ for you.” He didn’t know if the gun was hers or where it had come from; but he recognized the look in her eyes, had seen it looking back at him through a mirror for a long time after the events that led to his first incarceration.  

Karen didn’t acknowledge his offer but he did notice her shoulders tighten up. At last part of his assumption had been correct. “If you need anything, any help with anything less than legal, I have been known to get things taken care of,” he offered before he left the office.

He didn’t know why he offered to help her with whatever had happened, but part of him felt the need to make sure what had happened to him didn’t happen to any of Matt’s friends. The mob was no place for outsiders and the business of Fisk was dangerous for those involved let alone anyone who accidentally got caught in the crossfire. Vladimir knew that Matt would never forgive himself in anything happened to his friends while he tried to take down Hell’s Kitchen’s criminal underground; and he knew that this fact alone was why he offered his help. He had managed to develop feelings for the blind vigilante and he knew he would do anything in his power to protect him and his friends. “ _Shit_ ,” he cursed at him himself. He knew he cared for Matt, but his interaction with Karen and his subsequent revelation made it apparent just how far he was willing to go. “ _Shit,”_ he cursed again before he released some of his self-induced anger by punching the brick wall of _Nelson & Murdock_.

He had taken a few paces towards Matt’s apartment when he heard a door bang open.

“Wait,” Karen called to his back. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “I know who you are, and I don’t know how you came to know Matt, but I really couldn’t care less.” She stopped speaking as she hurried to catch up to him. “Plausible deniability,” she continued, “don’t even bother to tell me why. What I _do_ want to know is this: if I ask you for help, can you not tell Matt?”

Vladimir hesitated. Secrets always let to trouble – he had learned that lesson the hard way. “I cannot promise you that. If he asks I will not lie, but I will not tell him unless he asks.”

She nodded after a moment as if she wasn’t sure she could or _should_ trust him. “That’s fair. I just wanted to know the best way to get rid of gunpowder residue off my hands and if you know where I can dump this,” she said with a casual wave at her purse.

“Alcohol. Wash your hands in alcohol,” he answered immediately; oddly proud of himself for knowing something that wasn’t common knowledge. _Take that, Russian school system,_ he thought with an alarming amount of glee. _I did manage to learn something after I left!_ “As for that,” he said with a quick wave to her purse, “make sure it is clean and give it to me,” he said while he led her back into the office building to keep the exchange out of sight.

As she handed over the weapon she eyed him curiously. “So why the change of heart? Everything I’ve managed to learn about you and your operation shows that you’re not the kind of person to do something like this.”

Vladimir fought down the anger. She had every reason to be curious, he reasoned to himself. “Fisk murdered my brother. I will stop at nothing to get revenge, but this is less likely to get me killed even if it is less satisfying than killing him myself.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough of an explanation to keep Matt’s nighttime habit out of it and still be truthful.

He ignored her gasp and automatic “I’m so sorry,” response at his explanation and instead took the gun from her and proceeded to check if it was loaded or not before he tucked it against the curve of his spine. “Do not be sorry, just do not do anything stupid from now on.” He adjusted his shirt so that the gun was hidden between his back and the waistband of his pants. “And make sure your friends do the same. I will do what I can but you know them better; watch your back and theirs,” he warned before he turned once again to leave.

“You must really care about him,” she said to his back with wonder coloring her words.

Vladimir felt his shoulders tense up before he forced himself to relax. “ _Da,_ ” he admitted to the wall. “He is a good man and a good friend,” he continued, his voice sounding hoarse and hollow even to his own ears. The lie by omission was obvious and he regretted saying anything as soon as his teeth clicked together in a painful reminder to keep his mouth shut.

“He really is,” Karen agreed, “but he’s also really oblivious and a bit thick headed,” she added. It was an unnecessary addition, Vladimir was only too aware of how much Matt didn’t notice regardless of his heightened sense.

Despite himself, Vladimir found himself choking on a laugh. “To be fair to Matvey, I am the same way.”

“Most men are. You take care of yourself too, Vladimir,” she said and rested a hesitant hand on his forearm. “And thank you.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said blankly with a quick wink before he made his way out the door.

He stood on the sidewalk and glanced around to make sure he was alone before he turned in the opposite direction of Matt’s apartment and towards the dock’s Gao didn’t yet have control of.

It was deserted and dark when Vladimir reached the edge of the water. He felt a smile fight its way across his lips as he dismantled the handgun. He wondered for a moment if the exasperated fondness he was feeling was anything like what Tolik felt when he had helped cover up the mess Vladimir had left in the wake of Niko’s murder. The fondness burning in his chest was probably the only reason the anger at Karen’s stupidity wasn’t the prevalent emotion.

The walk back to Matt’s apartment was oddly quiet but since he made back in one piece and alone, he decided to just take win and not think too much on the one stroke of good luck he managed to have. He let himself in through the door and locked it behind him before he made his way over to the couch. Regardless of what Matt had said earlier in the evening when his brother had been around, he wasn’t willing to push his luck how much he could get away with when it came to being around Matt.

He sighed heavily and toed off his boots before he pushed them under the coffee table so Matt wouldn’t fall over something out of place.

He had only just closed his eyes for a minute before he heard Matt’s quiet footsteps come to a halt behind him. “This couch is awful, I told you that you could crash with me. You don’t take up a lot of room and you’re like a furnace.”

Vladimir hummed in response and opened one eye. Matt was hovering right over his head, his hair going in several different directions mussed up by his pillow. “Karen has the files. He is much too smart for her own good,” he mused once he stood up to follow Matt. He knew it would gain nothing but a needless argument to try and convince him that the couch would be fine.

“Why do you say that?” Matt asked while he led them back to his room.

He hesitated – it wasn’t like he needed to keep her secret, but he was flattered that she had trusted him enough to allow him to help at all. “She is very observant,” he finally settled on saying. IT wasn’t a lie so he knew his heartbeat wouldn’t betray him. “More so than most people,” he added, glaring at Matt’s back despite the fact that it would go unnoticed.

“She’s great. I’m glad Foggy and I helped her and she stayed with us. We’d probably be lost without her.”

Vladimir nodded and stripped out of his dress shirt and unwound his belt. If he was going to be comfortable on a bed he wasn’t going to be stuck in his clothes again. He hesitated for a moment at the button on his hands before he decided he could survive with them still on. It wouldn’t be so awful.

“You can borrow a pair of shorts or sweat pants if you want,” Matt spoke up from his seat at the edge of his bed. There was a blush staining the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. _Interesting_ , he mused before he went to the drawer Matt had pointed out.

Tucked in the back of the drawer was a pair of blue basketball shorts with a white lion on one leg. They had to have been left over from university, Vladimir assumed as there was no way Matt would have been allowed to buy them with Karen in his life. She was definitely one to tell someone what she thought and he knew for a fact these shorts had to be illegal. “Columbia. That is a good school, _da_?” he asked when he found the name of the school on the tag.

“Yeah. I did both my undergrad and law school at Columbia.”

“I never finished school. I was arrested with I was seventeen and Tolik couldn’t get me out until he took over the _Bratya_ when I was nineteen. I never saw the point of going back to school when I had an empire to help run,” he revealed with a sad, almost nostalgic frown on his face. It was never something he was ashamed of, per say, but he did regret never at least getting his GED when he had the chance.  At least he was financially stable enough from criminal background that he would never need more education to continue to live comfortably.

The shorts were a bit shorter than he was used to, but being about 10 centimeters taller than his friend he knew they weren’t going to fit right. “Is a good thing you cannot see, Matvey. These are hideous. How do you even still have these?”

The still-present flush on Matt’s face darkened. “I just like the way they feel. And they have pockets. You can never find good gym shorts with pockets.” With his back still turned to Vladimir, Matt tucked himself under the blankets. “Good night, Vladimir.”

No matter the teasing tone he had used earlier in the evening when Anatoly had been present, Vladimir couldn’t help but noticed the tense line of Matt’s shoulders. “Are you alright, _kotyonok_?” He asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a real answer. He may not be the most aware person in the world but after spending a great deal of time with Matt he had learned the blind man’s tells.

“I’ll be better if you stop hovering like some kind of creeper,” Matt huffed out, deflecting.

He decided to let it go, there was no point in prodding if Matt didn’t want to talk about it. “Good night, _zvyozdochka._ ”

It was quiet apart from the muted coming from the city outside for several minutes before Matt spoke around a yawn. “I’m gonna learn Russian so you can’t call me names anymore.”

“I will find new ones. Maybe I will learn Polish,” Vladimir countered before he snuggled down into the blankets and buried his head in the overly fluffy spare pillow.

“Dick,” Matt countered with a well-placed kick to Vladimir’s knee.

“Careful, _rybka_. You kick me in the balls and I will have to toss you out of your own bed,” he threatened through a smile.

“Fight me.”

“Go to sleep, _mudak_.”

Vladimir settled down and closed his eyes but after several minutes of laying in silence he found himself more awake than he had been earlier in the day. According to his accursed internal clock, the sun would just be starting to rise in Moscow. He exhaled slowly and forced himself to slow his breathing in hopes it would relax him enough that he could sleep.

He figured after the rough few days that his body would finally let him sleep and leave his old rhythm in the past where it belonged.

Instead, he rolled over so that he could look out the window and watch the skyline. Everything was well lit even during the nighttime hours because of the glowing billboard across the street. He cursed the brightly colored advertisements before he gave up on trying to sleep. He attempted to get up without waking him bedmate, but he felt Matt stir behind him.

“Where ya goin’?” Matt asked sleepily.

Vladimir froze. “I cannot sleep. Was going to let you sleep and make some coffee.”

Matt sat up and rubbed at his sightless eyes. “Make me some too.”

“ _Nyet_. You need to sleep, Matvey. How else are we supposed to put Fisk in jail if you are falling asleep in the court room?”

“I’m fine. You worry too much,” Matt countered as he swung his legs off the side of the bed. “I’m not gonna be able to sleep if you’re pacing or tossing and turning all night long.”

They sat around in silence while the coffee brewed. “I have been in America for five years but I still have trouble falling asleep at night.” He let his head thump against the table when he caught sight of the time “I am sorry that I keep you awake too.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m not a very good sleeper most nights.” He clicked his mouth shut as if he was forcing himself to stop talking.

Vladimir was well versed in the waiting game, although he was normally on the opposite side. It was obvious Matt wanted to talk but felt uncomfortable about whatever it was that was on his mind.

While Matt stewed over whether or not to keep talking, Vladimir made coffee for the two of them. “Here,” he said while his mind wandered back to the conversation he and Tolik had earlier in the evening. He sipped on his coffee ( _black, like your soul_ , Tolik used to tease) while he tried to figure out any significance to what Tolik said that he had found. “What do you think happens when we die?” he asked.

Matt didn’t answer for a long time. “Honestly? I was brought up Catholic. I believe in Heaven and Hell; or, I did, before I met you and your weird connection to the dead. Maybe I still do? I don’t really know.”

“I don’t want to put you through a religious crisis,” Vladimir added quickly. “I was just talking to Tolik and he found something over there. He said it’s definitely human shaped and they’re chained up – frozen in time, he thinks.” He stopped for a moment and tried to translate the half-formed thoughts Anatoly had presented him with. Whatever it was, it’s presence was enough to make his usually unruffled brother nervous and anxious. “There is a lock. Tolik said that Niko thinks it’s connected to me somehow.”

Matt snorted. “Conceited much?” he asked and raised an eyebrow in Vladimir’s direction with a grin before he sobered up. “Do you think it’s that disc?”

Immediately Vladimir’s hand went to the tarnished disc hanging around his neck. It was warm from his body heat when he wrapped his fingers around it in an unconscious gesture. “I do not know,” he said finally after mulling over the answer for a moment too long. “I wondered the same thing myself but I cannot bring myself to ask Niko what he meant.”

Matt moved closer to Vladimir and bumped their elbows together. “If you want to talk to him, I can go sit on the roof for a bit,” he offered softly.

“No. I have a feeling the only way to get it to wherever that place is where the dead stay is if I die myself. And, honestly, I do not plan on dying any time soon so it will be a while before I can figure out why I have this thing,” he admitted with a gentle tug on the leather cord. “Does that make me selfish?”

Matt obviously wasn’t expecting that question. He looked startled and turned so that Vladimir could see the frown on his face. “You may be a lot of things, but selfish is not one of them,” he said seriously.

Vladimir, while he didn’t necessarily agree with Matt’s vehement defense of his character, nodded solemnly and let the conversation drop for the moment. He didn’t know what he could do for Niko and his brother while death and dimension and time sat between them for the moment. If he was sure that he could make it back to Moscow without getting killed, he would check and see if the shop was still there and try to get an answer out of the odd store owner. As it was, he was sure that the strange shop and its equally strange owner was long gone. Sometimes, when he looks back on the day that started his life on his current path, he wonders if he hadn’t just imagined the whole store and just found the disc in the gutter.

“You know,” Matt said out of the blue. “If you don’t mind not having a TV and sharing the space, you can stay here for a while longer.” Matt was keeping his blank gaze directed at the table as if he tried hard enough he could see the details in the woodwork. “I don’t mind having you here.”

That was surprising. He had not been expecting Matt to crack and tell him what had been going on in his head earlier. He had definitely not been expecting the offer to stay. “It would be best, I think. That way I can keep an eye on you so you do not get yourself killed.”

Matt snorted into his coffee and the odd tension in the air was gone. “Maybe I want to keep an eye on you?”

“You can keep both eyes on me if it will help,” Vladimir deadpanned before he gently bumped his shoulder into Matt’s. “Are you alright? Seriously?”

Matt sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I have all this shit going on in my head and I can’t turn it off,” he complained quietly while he rubbed his fingers over his temples in slow circles.

Vladimir hesitated for only a moment before he moved Matt’s hands away from head; he tapped Matt’s shoulders asking silent permission to touch him. “You are tense, my friend. Let me help.”

Matt nodded and allowed Vladimir to search his beck and shoulders for knotted muscles. “I’ve been trying to find a way to put Fisk in prison for ages now, it seems. Some days I feel like it’s never going to happen.” He stopped taking when Vladimir found a large knot of tension at the base of his neck. “I guess it’s affecting me more than I thought.”

Vladimir just hummed in response and allowed himself a small smile when he felt the knot break and a little bit of tension disappear from the man in front of him. “I hope what you had me give to Karen helps.”

Matt nodded and sipped his coffee. “You know,” he said after he had remained quiet for several minutes while Vladimir worked on more of his neck and shoulders, “I’m glad we met. You may be an asshole like eighty percent of the time, but you’re a good person to have on my side.”

“Only eighty? I need to work on that then. I have a reputation to maintain, after all,” he said while choosing to ignore that Matt thought he was a good person – he was allowed to be wrong every once in a while.

Matt didn’t dignify his comeback with a response, just a hiss of pain when Vladimir found another knot curling around Matt’s shoulder blade. _This man is a mess,_ he thought with a shake of his head. He often times cursed his upbringing – neither of his parents had ever shown much affection towards either him or Anatoly, and because of this, he found himself sort of touch starved. It was times like this, in the quiet darkness with a friend that he realized he had missed throughout most of his life. The only person who had ever been generous with physical affection (that was wanted) had been Niko, and now that he had actual friends again, Vladimir found himself craving even the simplest of touches.

As loathed as he was to stop helping Matt, he also knew himself enough to know that he had reached his limit with his control. It was doing things to his heart and his libido to watch Matt go completely relaxed under his fingers. “If you want my help again with your shoulders we should stop for now. You are going to be sore tomorrow. Maybe, if you plan to go out tomorrow night, I should go with you. Just in case.”

“As long as you can keep up with me,” Matt said with a hint of a challenge in his voice.

“Do not worry about me, hero man,” Vladimir goaded him with a condescending shoulder pat and a flick aimed at Matt’s ear. He drank down his coffee as quickly as he was able. It had gone cold while he rubbed Matt’s shoulders, and as much as he had enjoyed giving him a backrub, cold coffee was almost unbearable.

Although he still wasn’t tired, he felt he could at least close his eyes and relax without fidgeting too much and accidentally keeping Matt awake. “Should we try to sleep?” he asked, already collecting his and Matt’s empty coffee mugs.

“May as well. I’m more relaxed now, at least.”

Vladimir felt a warm rush of affection at the unspoken thanks in Matt’s words. “ _Khorosho._ Good,” he said with a small scowl. It was becoming easier to slip into his native Russian the more comfortable he got around Matt. It was becoming a hassle to catch himself and translate. He feared, at least somewhat, that the habit of translating what he said would carry over to the slightly embarrassing pet names and Matt would no longer be oblivious to his feelings.

He followed Matt back to the bedroom and tried, really tried, to keep his eyes to himself; but in ugly sweatpants he was privy to Matt’s well-shaped ass and thighs. _Fuck me_ , he cursed inwardly and looked skyward as if the ceiling would provide him with answers. Unintentionally sexy just wasn’t a fair trait for anyone to have and Vladimir cursed his rotten luck when it came to whom he found attractive. _This is what I get for being a terrible person._ If it wasn’t for Matt’s enhanced senses, Vladimir would have hit himself for whining like a child. As it was, he allowed his self-loathing to quell the rising head in his cheeks when he caught himself checking out Matt’s ass again.

His only solace he could hold on to while he crawled onto his side of the bed – he had his own side, when had that happened? – was that he didn’t move around much when he was asleep and neither did Matt from what he could remember. At least he wouldn’t have to know what it felt like to have more than a companion at arm’s length. “Good night, Matvey,” he whispered into the darkness after taking a few minutes to get comfortable.

“Night, ‘Mir,” Matt said although he already sounded mostly asleep. It was obvious that the blind mad had been exhausted for days and now that he was more relaxed he was able to fall asleep. That, he figured was the only reason why Matt had shortened his name. Since they had teamed up he had been nothing more than Vladimir (except for the teasing ‘Muffin’ on the phone once). It was nice to hear a diminutive of his name from someone that wasn’t his brother for the first time since he was seventeen.

He closed his eyes and tried to let the muted sounds of the city lull him to sleep. He could feel himself slip off to sleep until the bed shifted and Matt rolled closer to him. “Matvey,” he whispered with a gentle shove, “you are crushing me,” he complained quietly while he tried to move his arm from under Matt’s weight.

The weight settled more against his side with a sleepy ‘shhh’ from his friend. Once again, he found himself cursing his existence as Matt curled closer to his side so that his head was resting comfortably on Vladimir’s shoulder.   

_Just this once_ , he promised himself and the sleeping man next to him. He would allow Matt to cuddle against him just one more before he would force himself to sleep on the couch if it meant not having to remember the warm heat of someone sleeping next to him. It was as torturous as it was wonderful; but it made him want things he would never have and that was what hurt the most. But just for the night, he could allow himself to soak up the comfort even as he could feel his heart break just a little more.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse - I just couldn't make the words work the way I wanted.  
> Hopefully I fixed them enough that I hit the major plot points to move the story forward and towards the upcoming ending.
> 
> Also, if you follow along with season 1 - Karen has just killed Wesley although neither Matt nor Vladimir know that. This particular story will be tied in a neat little bow by the event of the end of the season.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have problems, make a decision, and take a dive. And then, the unthinkable happens. 
> 
> **Warning for Character Death in this chapter**

 Chapter 8

 

Matt had always assumed there would be some kind of fallout they would have to push through in order to put Fisk in jail, but he wasn’t quite ready for exactly what it was going to be. He sat at his desk, tapping a pen against the solid top in agitation. The atmosphere in the office was tense; he was on edge and Karen didn’t seem to be fairing any better. Only Foggy seemed to be relaxed. Matt almost wanted to ask why, but he was almost sure he knew why – he could smell Marcie’s signature Chanel perfume still clinging faintly to his skin. _Good for him_ , Matt thought with a small smile. He was a bit confused because he thought Foggy was still trying to get together with Karen, but he figured he had missed something.

It made him sad, he really needed to work on his relationship with his best friend. He had been so focused on being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and trying to take down Fisk that his friendship had taken a backseat. He tapped the pen against his desk a few more times before he decided that after Fisk, he was going to try and repair the damage he had inflicted on their friendship. Foggy had given him hell for being the masked vigilante but Matt knew he had really hurt Foggy’s feelings by keeping it a secret.

Matt heaved a sigh and tried to release the tension that had settled in his shoulders, but it just seemed to settle deeper into his muscles. He would have to figure out a way to convict Fisk without having testify. He hadn’t wanted to get him involved even though he knew that he should have to play for his part in Fisk’s criminal circle. _Then again, he’s already lost everything_ he thought with a small frown. “He’s technically dead,” he whispered, a plan already forming I his mind. He would hate to lie, but it wasn’t technically a lie. Vladimir’s name had been released with the supposed dead after the bombings. He could say their informant had died – it was at least a good place to start.

_VLADIMIR. VLADIMIR. VLADIMIR._

“Speak of the devil,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“That is your moniker, _dorogy_ ,” Vladimir countered, sounding stressed and anxious. “I may have a problem.”

“What’s the matter?” Matt asked, already half-way out of his chair.

Vladimir didn’t answer him; he could hear him talking to someone else. “Hello, Matt,” Nikolai greeted, sounding much like Vladimir had. “Are you able to come home for lunch? We have small problem.”

Matt sighed. “Only if ‘Mir makes me lunch,” Matt joked, already slipping his jacket over his shoulder.

He realized his mistake only after Nikolai choked out a laugh. “You are to that stage already?”

“Shut up, Niko,” Matt said and heard it echoed from Vladimir in the background of the call. “Can you put Vladimir back on the phone?”

While he waited for the phone to change hands, he heard what sounded like a light scuffle, like they were fighting, followed by a muffled curse. “Go away, Niko,” Vladimir complained before his attention turned back to the phone and Matt. “What do you want for lunch, _d’yavol_?”

“Back to the mean names?” Matt teased, trying to ease the tension over the phone. “I was just being an ass. You don’t have to actually make me lunch,” he said quickly, feeling guilt creep into his gut for making Vladimir think he wouldn’t come home without incentive.

Vladimir hummed distractedly, already clanging around in Matt’s kitchen. Since he had started staying in Matt’s apartment a for the better part of their acquaintance, Matt’s poorly furnished kitchen had suddenly exploded with new appliances mixed with the few he had original bought that had suddenly been used more in the past month than in the years Matt had lived in his apartment. “I cook when I am stressed. Helps me relax.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Matt said with a small frown, his worry ratcheting up higher. He hung up with a distracted goodbye, his mind racing though every possible problem Vladimir could have come across that had to do with Nikolai.

Matt stopped in front of the office door. “I may have a crisis,” he told Karen and Foggy who were huddled over Karen’s desk, pouring over the documents Vladimir had anonymously dropped off the week before – the same documents that may soon become totally useless if he couldn’t figure out a way to keep from having Vladimir out of court.

“A lunch-time quickie is not a ‘crisis’, Matt,” Foggy replied, his smirk obvious in his tone.

Matt felt the back of his neck heat up with embarrassment. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, not sounding convincing in the slightest. Obviously Foggy didn’t believe him, and from her poorly concealed laugh, Karen didn’t either. “Seriously, guys,” he growled out with a frown. He knew they were teasing, but the part of him that he really didn’t understand or want to think on at the moment, felt angry at the fact that they found it so funny that maybe he could have someone who wanted him.

“Tell Vladimir we said ‘hi’,” Karen said to his back, stifling a laugh in her work.

“I’ll tell him you’re both assholes,” Matt groused, his blush spreading down his neck and chest when he realized he had almost used one of the few Russian words he knew instead of English.

“I’m sorry, Matt,” Foggy apologized, sounding anything but. “But you guys kinda act like you’re together.”

Matt shook his head. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said tonelessly and walked away, his mind reeling. _Do we really?_ he asked himself. While he made the short walk back to his apartment, he replayed every interaction he had with the Russian. To an outsider, he could see how their friendship could be seen as more; but there wasn’t anything else. Just because he knew Vladimir was attracted to him didn’t mean he wanted a relationship with Matt (or that Matt wanted a relationship with him); it didn’t mean they were anything more than friends.

He was so distracted during his walk home that he nearly ran over Nikolai when he walked into his apartment on autopilot. The glow that had surrounded the young man, granting him minimal sight, seemed dimmer than it did last time he was summoned. _That’s not good._

“Good, you are finally back,” Nikolai said, his agitation clipping his already rough English into an almost unintelligible blur of words.

Vladimir called out something from the kitchen, his tone as sharp with tension as Nikolai’s.

Matt made his way to the kitchen and had to hold back a sneeze as he breathed in a lungful of flour. “What are you making? Besides a mess?”

“ _Khinkali,”_ Vladimir answered, as if that was actually an answer to his question.

“Uh, dumb American here. What is it?” Matt asked, annoyed for some unknown reason. He had hoped an hour away from work would relieve some of his growing stress levels. So far, he just felt more on edge from the atmosphere and his friend’s teasing that had him over analyzing every action he and Vladimir made.

“It’s a dumpling, _d’yavol_ ,” Nikolai answered when it was obvious Vladimir wasn’t going to elaborate. “Is good,” he continued before he grabbed Matt’s elbow and led him out of the kitchen to his couch.

Matt waited as long as he could stand before his curiosity got the better of him. “So, why are you still here?” he asked, and then flinched at the rude tone his question had taken. “Sorry.”

Niko waved off his apology and glanced back towards Vladimir who was still in the kitchen, muttering to himself in angry sounding Russian. “Is why we called. I seem to be stuck here.”

_Oh. That explains a bit_. Now that he knew the problem, he was faced with more questions and worries. “So what? You’re stuck here forever?”

Nikolai shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess? I do not want to be a sixteen-year-old spirit forever! I want to finally pass on and not be stuck in fucking limbo,” he said, his voice rising in pitch, edging towards hysterical.

“We will figure it out, Niko,” Vladimir replied softly, two plates of steaming dumplings visible at the edge of Matt’s borrowed sight. He handed one to Matt and kept the other for himself (but not before passing one over to Nikolai, Matt noted with a twist like jealousy in his gut).

The three of the sat in silence while Matt and Vladimir ate before Matt couldn’t take it anymore. “I think we have another problem too. I can’t very well have you appear in court since you’re supposed to be dead, and they may dismiss all that evidence if we don't have someone to present it. But even if you weren’t magically ‘dead’, I couldn’t have you testify anyway. I really kinda wanna keep you out of prison.”

“Fuck,” Vladimir swore viciously before dissolving into his native language again.

“I’m going after him tonight,” Matt spoke over the blond. He hadn’t made the decision until he had voiced the idea. It was his last resort, it always had been, but it seemed like it had officially reached that point. “I won’t take my friends down with me, so I’m going by myself.” He hesitated for several awkward moments before he forced himself to continue. “Foggy and Karen can’t know, and I don’t want any of you involved-”

“Fuck that!” Vladimir interrupted with a surprising amount of conviction. “You are _not_ going against that _psikopat_ by yourself.”

Matt frowned. “I know you want revenge-”

“You are damn right, I do! But that is not-” Vladimir cut himself off with a rough shake of his head. “I am going with you. End of discussion,” he said with finality coloring his tone.

He weighed his options carefully while he finished his lunch. On one hand, he knew he could always use more help when he didn’t really know what the night would bring. On the other hand, he couldn’t stand it if anything happened to Vladimir because of him. _But I don’t have the right to take his choice away. He’s already dealt with that enough_ , he thought even as his heart gave a hard lurch at the notion.

Against his will, his mind conjured up an image of Vladimir ending up like his brother. The image left him feeling sick with a dizzying sense of sadness and some emptiness he didn’t have a name for. “Fine,” he said finally before he let himself rest against the sold wall of heat of Vladimir’s body next to him. “But he stays here,” he added, gesturing to Nikolai with his fork. 

“Agreed,” Vladimir said instantly, his body relaxing back against the couch Matt to have to shift his body weight quickly to avoid an ungraceful tumble into Vladimir’s lap. Instead of an apology for the sudden movement, Vladimir merely adjusted his arm so that Matt found himself tucked comfortably against his friend. His over analyzing from earlier came back with a vengeance, but Matt couldn’t bring himself to move or to care.

Nikolai gagged from his perch on the armrest. “Get a room,” he complained, his voice tinged with just a bit of hurt. It was strange, not being able to hear a heartbeat to go along with the words so it was like he was missing a bit of the conversation; but he could see the small frown and sad eyes on Nikolai’s face even though he tried to hide them by facing away from them.

Matt chose to ignore the comment since he was doing nothing more than relaxing with his friend, no matter what everyone else seemed to think. Vladimir, it seemed, wasn’t going to let it go without a comment. Matt couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable. “Don’t be a dick,” Matt admonished with a light tap to Vladimir’s ribs with his elbow.

“You do not even know what I said.”

Matt laughed. “Don’t have to. You’re an asshole eighty percent of the time, remember?” It brought a small smile to his face as he brought up one of their previous conversations as if it was some kind of inside joke they had.

Nikolai rolled his eyes and got up to leave. “Be a dear and take my plate?” Vladimir requested, voice sickeningly sweet.

“Eat a dick,” Nikolai replied dryly, but took both Matt and Vladimir’s empty plates to the kitchen before he stalked away to the roof access plunging Matt back into his world of fire.

“You don’t have to be a jerk to him. He’s worried,” Matt mentioned with a twinge of sympathy for the boy who was obviously very upset.

Vladimir sighed heavily and started to absently run his fingers through Matt’s hair, more than likely messing it up; but Matt couldn’t find it in himself to be irritated when it was a calming motion. “He is not the only one.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Matt figured he needed to get back to work. “Try to get some rest before tonight. If you’re going to come with me, I want you alert. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Vladimir’s heartbeat increased rapidly, and from where he was sitting he could both hear it as well as feel it against his side. “You should try and take it easy at work. You are more important to all this than I am.” Matt could tell that hadn’t been what he had really wanted to say, but he understood the unspoken sentiment just as easily as what he had managed to say. It sent a warm thrum of affection radiating out of his chest to settle and warm his entire body.

“Of course, although you're wrong. But we’ll watch out for each other.” Reluctantly Matt stood up and left the warmth Vladimir’s side had provided. “Tell Nikolai I said goodbye. If you figure anything out, feel free to call me. If not, I’ll be back by dark.”

Vladimir stood and went to follow Nikolai up to the roof. “’Mir?” Matt found himself calling out, his voice soft and unsure. He had no idea why he had stopped the other man, but he decided to follow his gut on it. He had so many things he could say, but they all seemed like a goodbye – they all seemed so final. Instead of voicing anything too morbid, he settled for relaying his friend’s earlier message. “Karen and Foggy told me to tell you ‘hi’ and that I obvious went home for a lunchtime quickie.” _Coward_ , his mind supplied when he quickly decided not say any of the mushy things his mind had come up with after he nixed all the morbid thoughts.

“Quickie?” Vladimir parroted, obviously confused.

“They didn’t believe me when I said I was going to deal with a crisis. Foggy assumes that every time I come home for lunch that I’m getting laid,” Matt explained, his blush from earlier coming back with a vengeance.

“That can be arranged,” Vladimir said, his tone causal but his heartbeat betrayed him.

“If I’m going to have sex, I’m going to do it when I have time to enjoy it,” Matt replied easily before he turned to leave.

“That was not a ‘no’!” Vladimir called to his back with a laugh.

Matt echoed his laugh, glad that the tension that had followed him from work to his home had, at least for the moment, vanished. “It’s also a ‘yes’” he said to himself once he was alone in the hallway and Vladimir’s heartbeat was muted behind the heavy door. His insides were knotting up the more he focused on the contentedness that washed over him when he remembered the calm rhythm of Vladimir’s fingers carding through his hair or the heat against his side that warmed him and chased away the rush of anxiety he had been feeling the entire day. “Shit,” he cursed and smacked his head against the wall. This was _not_ the time for an identity crisis.

On his walk back to work, he decided he would sit down and work through his feelings for Vladimir once they had dealt with Fisk. Until then, he had bigger things to worry about.

“How was _lunch_?” Foggy asked as soon as he had stepped back into the office. He could hear the smirk Foggy was more than likely wearing.

“Lovely. He made homemade dumplings. He also seems to think you’re funny. Apparently ‘quickie’ doesn’t translate into Russian, so thanks for that,” Matt groused. He didn’t have to tell Foggy that he hadn’t meant to bring up their conversation, and that it was just something that came out instead of him spilling whatever was going on in his head. Boxing up his feelings to be examined later may not be a good coping mechanism in the long run, but the short-term effects were worth it. He felt more relaxed than before although if that was from lunch or poor coping methods he wasn’t sure.

“That’s what the kids are calling it these days, huh? Good to be kept in the loop. Although, if your wonderful sex hair is anything to go by, I may need to find myself someone to make me dumplings,” Foggy countered before he returned to the files on Karen’s desk.

Matt felt guilty for doing the exact opposite of what Foggy had just said, but there was no way in Hell he was ever going to let his dearest friend be in any kind of danger because of him. _But_ , he reasoned with himself _, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission_. There was no way Foggy would ever let him go through with his plan if he knew about it, and he really didn’t want anyone in his way for this. At this point, Foggy would just be someone else to worry about – it was already enough that he would be using too much of his focus to keep an eye out for Vladimir, who at least he knew how to take care of himself.

\---

He spent the rest of the afternoon going over every possibly scenario he could think of for how the night would go. It would make no difference, but he knew he couldn’t just sit and wait without driving himself mad. Instead, he made himself worry about every possible outcome, each more awful than the last.

Although not good for his overall psyche, it was a good waste of time. Before he knew it, he could hear Foggy and Karen packing up to leave. He pushed himself away from his desk with a sense of dread sinking in his stomach. The impending ending of his largest endeavor as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was filling him with a feeling of doom. Even though he tried to squash the feeling, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going to end tonight.

He walked home in a daze, he felt disassociated with everything as if it was someone else in control of his body and he was just along for the ride.  

The odd dream-like state ended when he opened his door to what smelled like an arsenal. “We’re going after one man. Is this necessary?” Matt asked, his nose twitching with the smell of gun oil and metal.

Vladimir huffed. “Two Colt .45’s is not too much,” he answered while he continued to clean the dismantled handguns. “You have your new suit and stick-”

“Bill Club,” Matt corrected automatically.

“-your stick. I have nothing else but good aim. Forgive me for wanting to be useful.” It was only then that Matt noticed the harsh set of his shoulders and the acrid burn of fear in the room. But regardless of the intense emotion, Vladimir’s hands were stead while he pieced his guns back together.

Matt sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry,” he apologized quietly, resting his hand briefly on Vladimir’s shoulder before he moved to his bedroom to change out of his work clothes. It was still too early to put his new suit on, but he set it out on his bed so just so he would have something to do with his hands for just a bit longer.

After he changed into lose sweatpants and an old t-shirt worn soft from too many washes, he drifted back into the living room. “Where’s Nikolai?” he asked, slightly irritated at himself for not noticing his absence when he got home.

“Sulking on the roof. He is angry with me for siding with you. He wants to come with us,” Vladimir answered without stopping his task. Through Matt’s burning sight, he could see the blonde’s shoulders tense more. “I could not protect him when I was a boy. I will be damned if I make that mistake again,” he growled out through clenched teeth.

Matt didn’t know how to respond to that. He understood the determination to protect people – especially people he cared about; but to see someone else going through the same thing left him breathless. Logically, he knew Vladimir had done everything in his power to change and help Matt (he had the scars to prove it, after all), but part of him still had trouble remember that when the evidence of his past was laid bare in front of him.

Since he didn’t have any words to offer for comfort, he sat down next to Vladimir, close enough for comfort but far enough away so he didn’t disturb anything. “You’re more than good aim,” he said finally, after he couldn’t take the sense atmosphere anymore.

Vladimir huffed and shook his head. “Thank you, Matvey,” he replied before he set his second Colt on the coffee table and ran his oil stained hands through his hair. “This is not the first time I have taken on a kingpin, but it feels different. I did not care what happened to me before. But this time,” he cut himself off with a hard shake of his head. “Do not mind me, _d’yavolenok_. I am being morbid.”

Matt bit his lip – he was worried about the defeated set of Vladimir’s body. He reached out slowly, as if he were approaching a cornered animal, and gently wrapping his fingers around Vladimir’s wrist. He tried several times to say something, _anything_ , to make his friend feel better, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, he tried to relieve the tension that had settled down into Vladimir’s hand.

Matt’s sensitive ears picked up on the door to the roof access open and looked up. The normal bright light that surrounded Nikolai was dimmed even more than it had been at lunch.

He was silent while he descended the stairs, his eyes taking in the quiet setting of Matt’s living room before he finally spoke. “While I do not see the point of staying behind, I will do as you say.”

Matt couldn’t be sure since he had no heartbeat to betray a lie, but he was almost positive the young man was just saying that to put Vladimir at ease. It seemed to work if only a little. The harsh line of Vladimir’s shoulders settled as he relaxed onto the back cushion of Matt’s couch. “Thank you, Niko,” Vladimir said after a long sigh.

“Anything for you, Volodya.” After a beat, he continued, “Now, do you have a plan or are you just going in with just your bull-headedness?”

That seemed to surprise a laugh out of Vladimir. “It worked last time,” he said with a small shake of his head.

Matt could admit that he was a little intrigued about how a sixteen-year-old had been able to destroy the upper tier of the Russian mob, but he was also unwilling to ask. The last time Vladimir had spoken about it, he had glossed over most of the details to focus on the reason behind his poorly-timed panic attack. The thought made him grip Vladimir’s fingers tighter as though his body was trying to prove to his mind that Vladimir had survived and maybe would do so again.

“I have a few ideas, but they’re mostly just how to find him. I don’t know for sure, but I heard something on the streets about the Irish trying to step in and take over the arms dealing in Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt said carefully, unsure how Vladimir would react to the new of another group trying to step in where he and his brother had left off.

“Good. They can have it,” Vladimir said dismissively before he went on to mutter “see how hard it is. Piece of shit.”

Matt laughed and jabbed Vladimir in the ribs to quiet him. “Anyway. I hear there’s supposed to be a meeting between Fisk and the head of the Irish mob. We should wait until then and get him after the meeting.” During his less-than productive day at work, that had been the most logical and safe plan he could come up with that had the highest outcome of the two of them making it out alive.

“We could always go in during the meeting and get them all. I am okay with this,” Vladimir countered with a sharp, wicked smile Matt could barely see due to the fading glow of Nikolai who was still standing away from them to light up much of the duo.

“Absolutely not. I’m not walking into a firefight when you don’t have any protection,” Matt said quickly, his pulse skyrocketing at the idea.

“Relax, Matvey. I joke,” Vladimir said, obviously trying to pacify Matt. “But I do have body armor I planned on wearing.”

Matt relaxed but seriously considered hitting the blond for being a grade-A asshole. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious,” Vladimir countered before he tugged at the back of Matt’s t-shirt. Matt followed the gently pull and settled back into the same position they had adopted during lunch. He exhaled heavily and tucked his legs up to his chest, suddenly cold despite the nearness of Vladimir’s higher body temperature. It wasn’t a physical chill, but something he felt settle in his bones near the dark part of himself that housed the Devil.

He felt the couch shift as Nikolai leaned over Vladimir’s other shoulder and said something that made Vladimir’s body heat rise. “Eat sit, Niko,” he growled out through his obvious embarrassment.

Matt had no idea what he missed and neither of his companions seemed like they were going to speak English for the time being so he contented himself with listening to the gentle cadence of the foreign language. As they continued their back and forth, Matt felt the soothing motion of Vladimir carding his fingers through his hair again.

The next thing he knew, Vladimir was gently shaking him awake. “Come on, _kotenok_. You need to wake up and get ready. If we wait much longer we will lose our chance.”

Matt nodded and reluctantly moved away from the warmth that had put him to sleep. “Do what you need to do to get ready,” he said as he got up to do the same.

AS he changed into his new armor, he could still hear the two in his living room speaking in rapid Russian. Matt wondered what they were saying, especially when he heard his name come up, but figured there was a reason they were speaking in their first language.

When he came out of his bedroom with his mask tucked under one arm, he realized he could clearly see all of Vladimir for the first time. Nikolai had his arms wrapped firmly around Vladimir in what looked like a very tight and uncomfortable looking hug. “You be safe,” Nikolai commanded, his voice cracking with emotion his body lacked the ability to expel. If he could, he would probably be crying, Matt figured. As it was, he merely rubbed his eyes ad turned towards Matt with a fiercely determined look. Regardless of the height difference, Matt could admit he was mildly intimidate by the young man who was now so close that Matt could count the handful of freckles spread out across Nikolai’s nose. “Watch out for him,” Nikolai whispered so that only Matt could hear him. “I love him more than anything, but I am not selfish enough to wish to see him in Limbo any time soon.” It was a request, but the way it was spoken made it seem like a threat.

Matt glanced up at Vladimir who was busy double-checking his weapons and then nodded. “I’m going to be selfish and keep him here as long as possible,” Matt said with a small, private smile. “I’m rather fond of him. He grows on you.”

Nikolai snorted, a toothy grin spreading over his face. “Like a fungus.”

“We’ll go with that,” he agreed; it was easier to go with a joke than to hash out his feelings and emotions at the moment.

“If you are done talking about me like I am not here, we need to leave.” Vladimir said loudly. He was tapping an erratic rhythm against the handle of a Colt like he wanted to be carrying it in his hand instead of the holster across his chest.

“Be safe,” Nikolai called out as he and Vladimir went out to the roof access.

They kept to the side streets and alleys to stay out of sight of the public. They hadn’t gone more than a few blocks when Matt noticed an out of place glow on a rooftop next to them. “Don’t look now, but we seem to have a shadow,” Matt whispered while he kept his senses stretched to take in their surroundings.

“ _Da_ , I noticed. As long as he stays away I think he will be fine. It is not like he can die again, and we cannot risk bringing attention to ourselves,” Vladimir said before he quickly reached out and prevented Matt from moving forward. “It seems we are early.”

_You could have let me sleep more,_ Matt groused to himself. _I was comfortable._ Matt listened to his surrounding and heard the negotiations between three men, only one voice that he could recognize right away. “You come at them from over by the water fountain. I’m going this way,” he said while pointing towards the opening of the alleyway they were coming up to. “Go around the block and come in from the other side of the park.”

Vladimir didn’t answer but he could hear the shift in the air and the subtle click of two safety’s being released at the same time. When the blond made to go around to the far entrance of the park, Matt felt something close to dread settle in his stomach. “Wait a minute, ‘Mir,” Matt whispered and reached out a hand in Vladimir’s direction.

“What?” Vladimir asked, immediately on edge, alert for something wrong. It was impressive, but right now, Matt was more worried about calming the swarm of butterflies in his belly. “Is something wrong?”

Matt took a deep breath. _Man up, Murdock_ , he commanded himself as he removed his helmet and moved to close the small distance between himself and Vladimir. “After this, can we-” he stopped. He couldn’t say it. The words were there, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the top of Vladimir’s body armor and pulled him down so they were the same height. “Come back safely to me,” he demanded before he pressed a quick and nervous kiss to Vladimir’s lips before he could lose his nerve.

Vladimir stuttered over something in Russian once Matt broke the kiss and turned away to hide his red face. “I will,” Vladimir promised after he managed to switch back to Russian. His heart was beating erratically and Matt wondered for a moment he made a mistake before his fear was erased when Vladimir turned Matt’s head so he could return the kiss with a slower and softer one. “If you do the same,” Vladimir added after their second kiss came to a natural end.

Without another word, Matt heard Vladimir turn to hurry along down the street to take his place by the fountain like Matt had suggested. He put his helmet back on and waited at the mouth of the alley until he could no longer differentiate Vladimir’s footsteps from the few people still out despite the late hour.

He kept to the wall and stepped cautiously into the alley so he could keep Fisk in his firey vision. Unfortunately, he was also trying to keep tabs on Vladimir who was now a blur on the edge of his sight. It was a difficult balancing act, but he was managing just fine; until he noticed Vladimir stop dead and point frantically at a nearby rooftop.

It wasn’t until he felt a high caliber round pierce through his armor that he heard the harsh bang of a high-powered semi-automatic. Between the space of one breath and the next, Matt could hear himself scream, the noise blending with the sudden chaos of the surrounding area. Regardless of the explosion of noise, he thought he could make out Vladimir’s heartbeat and pounding footsteps as he ran across the park, completely ignoring any personal safety. _Idiot_ , he thought fondly.

Belatedly, he realized that he was bleeding out quickly as he slumped down onto the dirty ground and gasped out a pained breath that was more a choke than an inhale.

He managed to see the light surrounding Nikolai crash into Vladimir and knock him off course just in time to avoid getting shot in the head by the same rooftop sniper. “Thanks, Niko,” he whispered before he felt his eyes slip shut.

Once he opened his eyes he came face to face with an irritated looking Anatoly who was shouting at him in Russian – something about his brother. “Oh shit,” Matt said, standing up and realizing that he could _see,_ that everything seemed to glow. “Oh shit,” he repeated when his mind caught up to exactly why he could see.

He looked around before he looked up and saw the scene he had left behind. It was strange to see his own body, but he was more worried about the slightly unhinged look on Vladimir’s face. It looked like he hadn’t managed to get a chance to take out Fisk before Nikolai had tackled him, but it didn’t seem to be stopping him from trying to get back to the chaos in the park. He was fighting to get back to the action, but also seemed to be breaking down before he could do so.

Nikolai had his arms wrapped around Vladimir’s chest, pinning his arms to his side and speaking to him in attempts to calm him enough to move out of sight. “Listen to him,” Matt pleaded while he wrung his hands together.

“The problem with my brother is that he listens to no one,” Anatoly said, his hands resting on Matt’s shoulders. “It has cost him a great deal. I don’t know what this will do to him.”

Matt shook his head. He didn’t know what his death would do to Vladimir but he was sure it wasn’t going to be anything good. He immediately felt guilty for not trying to get Vladimir to process his grief, instead allowing him to bury it as Matt had buried his own feelings over the years. There was nothing he could do about it now except watch.

The last thing he saw was Vladimir ruffling Nikolai’s hair with a shaking hand before he pulled his necklace off and looked between it, Nikolai, and Matt’s body. He shook his head and snapped the thin piece of metal between his fingers. Immediately, the tear he had been watching through disappeared with a bright flash of light and he was left looking at nothing but grey sky.

“ _Der’mo_ ,” Anatoly hissed out as something rumbled and the landscape vibrated like they were in the middle of an earthquake. He grabbed onto Matt and pulled him towards a large, scorched crater. “This is not good.”

“What? What’s not good?” Matt asked, grateful that Anatoly was able to keep speaking English despite everything going on around him.

“Did Volodya tell you what I told him? About the thing in chains?” Matt nodded, sure he knew where Anatoly was going with this, but was hoping he was wrong. “This is where it was.”

When Matt surveyed the empty space, he could smell the crackling scent of ozone and smoke; the previous sense of dread was replaced with a crippling fear of the unknown. He had really never feared death – even after he donned the mask and started toeing the line between right and wrong, he knew what would happen to him after he died. Now that he was dead and he knew where he was going, he found himself afraid for himself and everyone else stuck here – what was going to happen to them after this place fell apart? “What now?” he asked, feeling small and unsure.

“I don’t know, _d’yavol_. But we will find out together. I won’t leave you alone,” Anatoly promised gravely.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new character is introduced to wrap up everything in a neat little bow.

Chapter 9

 

As Vladimir walked away from Matt he found that the shock over their parting couldn’t erase the feeling of dread that had settled in his chest. Despite this, he couldn’t help but to let a small grin curl across his lips. He honestly hadn’t been expecting Matt to feel anything close to friendship towards him, let alone more. Part of him couldn’t help but think it was some kind of goodbye, that Matt was just giving him what he wanted before one or both of them died. He shook the morbid thought away and hurried towards the far entrance of the park so he and Matt could close ranks on Fisk as he was leaving.

The fountain, while granting him a clear line of sight and the ability to stay hidden, was loud. It was enough to drown out the road of his pulse echoing in his ears as his heart tried to beat its way out of his chest.

He squinted into the darkness of the alley where Matt was supposed to be coming from and felt his heart stop. Set up on a rooftop less than a hundred meters from where Matt had just stepped into view was a man watching everything through the scope of a sniper rifle. Vladimir moved away from the fountain and felt the dread that had been building in his chest turn to real fear when the sniper seemed to spot Matt at the same time that he made an exaggerated motion towards the man on the roof in hopes that Matt’s firey vision would be able to catch what he was desperately trying to point out.

Almost as though it was happening in slow motion, he heard the sharp _crack_ of the rifle go off and Matt’s body jerk. “No,” he gasped out, his body going stiff as if he had been the one shot by a high-caliber bullet. “Fuck,” he cursed and forced his feet to move so he could get to Matt as soon as possible. _Not again,_ he thought as he dashed across the open ground without any sense of self-preservation even as chaos broke out around him.

He was only partially aware that he was tackled to the ground just as a bullet whizzed over his head. He sat up and tried to get to his feet but was stopped by a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.

“Volodya, stop!” Niko shouted and struggled to keep his hold on Vladimir as he continued to struggled to get to his feet. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Vladimir sagged back against Nikolai and allowed himself to be lead out of the crossfire from multiple rooftops and ground locations. “I must be jinxed,” he said, with a hollow-sounding laugh even as he wiped away a stray tear. He pushed away from Nikolai and crawled over to where Matt’s body was slumped against the wall. “I’m sorry, Matvey,” he whispered to the vigilante as if he could be heard. _He won’t answer if I call but maybe he does not have to,_ he thought to himself while he toyed with the disc hanging around his neck.

“What are you thinking, Volodya?” Nikolai asked, his voice echoing in the alley as if he were already a dimension away.

“I have an idea,” Vladimir declared as he viciously tore the necklace over his head. “If it works, I can fix this. If not, well, at least I tried.” He wasn’t talking to Nikolai, not really, but he reacted as if he had guessed Vladimir’s insane plan.

“Don’t you dare! Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not worth it. Please,” Nikolai begged, but Vladimir was beyond caring.

He ruffled Nikolai’s pale blond hair and shot him a tear grin. “Sorry. I cannot do this again. I am the reason you and Tolik died. I cannot just sit by while Matvey dies too; not if there is something I can do.” He held this disc between his fingers and took a deep breath to steady himself. “I need to try, Niko.”

Without waiting for a response, Vladimir snapped the soft metal in half. For a moment nothing happened and he thought his wild theory about himself and the disc was just the final sign that he had lost his mind. The moment after the thought crossed his mind, it was if all the sound in the world had been sucked away, and in the vacuum of total silence the earth shook as if they were in the epicenter of an earthquake. An explosion of wind blew from the center of the park where a storm cloud appeared out of thin air. It was enough to stop the firefight and knock everyone to the ground. This, however, was all background to Vladimir who had eyes only for the strange skeletal figure who appeared in the middle of the chaos.

He turned to look away from the figure who was gliding his way to ask Nikolai if he had any idea what had just happened, but he found himself alone I the alley with Matt’s body. _For the best_ , the reasoned with himself as he struggled to get to his feet after the force of the blast of foul-smell air had knocked him down.

Once on his feet he realized that the reason he could no longer hear anything was that everyone else in the area was frozen in place. He gripped the broken pieces of the disc tighter until he felt the sharp edge cut into his palm. He used the light stinging sensation to ground him as he took in more and more of his surroundings. 

The lights sparked as the bulbs overheated and blew, plunging more and more of the park into total darkness. His eyes only took a moment to adjust to the difference in light saturation, but in that moment, the spectral figure moved across the entire length of the park so that it was directly in front of him. In some more primal part of his brain Vladimir recognized the figure as a threat, but instead of listening to his instincts and fleeing, he took a slow and cautious step forward.

Something was buzzing in his head, like static only stronger, unfocused and loud. It gave him an instant headache but that the same time, he felt like if he could get through the echoing feedback, that he could get to something _more_.

As soon as it had appeared, the static stopped and the noise was replaced by a silence so absolute that his rapid heartbeat sounded like thunder as his pulse beat against his eardrums.

The figure was so close that if he reached out he could touch the old robes that billowed around it despite the lack of a breeze. Vladimir never considered himself to be a coward and he wasn’t about to start now. So, instead of shying away from the other-worldly figure, he raised his head to look it in the eye. Or, that had been the plan. The face was distinctly feminine even with the lack of facial features. Under the hood was just a skull with dark, fathomless eye sockets.

The crushing silence was broken by a voice whispering in his head, calling his name. “How do you know who I am?” he asked aloud, unsure if it could hear his thoughts.

_I know everyone who has ever been and who will ever be._

Vladimir’s first instinct was to assume the statement was hyperbole, but upon looking at the empty eyes and seeing something endless reflecting in the dark sockets, he decided to believe the words no matter how extreme it seemed.

As if the thing in front of him wanted to show off its power, it lifted one skeletal arm and twisted its fingers around in a simple gesture. In the same instant the park came back to life; Vladimir could see Fisk and the Irish brothers stand on shaking legs, the standoff on hold for a moment until the robed figure did another small gesture and snapped its fingers together.

Everyone in the park dropped to the ground. It was obvious, even from his place in the alley that they were all dead. _That is what you wanted, is it not?_ It asked him.

“ _Da,_ ” he replied slowly, his brain trying to put together what he was seeing with any kind of logic or reason. “How did you?” he began to ask but found that he couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.

_As a ‘thank you’ for releasing me. I gave you what you wanted. Revenge._

Vladimir laughed, it sounded strained and insincere even to his own ears. “What I wanted? Yes, I suppose you are right.” He sighed heavily and reached out to hand over the broken trinket over to the creature who could only be the personification of Death itself. Without his connection to the other side, Vladimir reasoned that Death had given him what he wanted.

_Does this not please you?_ The voice in his head sounded almost put out, as if it had guessed that its gesture hadn’t been as appreciated as it should have been.

“Of course!” Vladimir said hurriedly, afraid that he would be next if he insulted Death to its face. “It’s just that,” he began but stopped with a harsh shake of his head. He let his gaze turn from Death to Matt even as his instincts screamed at him to keep the threat in his direct line of sight.

_I cannot bring him back without disrupting the Balance,_ Death said, its voice sounding sad, as if Vladimir’s feelings were bleeding into its own. _Unless, of course, there is someone to take his place._

Vladimir’s head snapped up his eyes darting around to all the bodies littering the park. “What about them?”

Death could not make any facial expression, but Vladimir felt as though it was smirking when it followed Vladimir’s eyes as he mentally counted the bodies in the park. _It takes more to bring someone back, World Owner. It is easy to end, not as easy to erase._

Vladimir thought back to the late-night coffee he and Matt had shared where he had told Matt that he wasn’t looking to die any time soon. He knew, in that moment, that he had lied to his friend. He wasn’t going to go looking for death, but now that he was looking at Death; he knew that he only had one option. While he didn’t want to die, he knew his life was worth far less than Matt’s. “I am not a World Owner. You have my world in your domain. So, I have a proposition for you: a killer in exchange for a protector. Will that be enough?” he asked, his voice steady despite the swooping of his insides. He wasn’t afraid of death or what waited for him, but he couldn’t stop the sadness that wrapped his heart in solid bands.

Death nodded. In the span of a heartbeat, Vladimir felt something disconnect and as his heart stopped he caught a glimpse of Matt’s eyes flutter behind the Devil mask as he took a gasping breath into his suddenly functioning lungs.

 

\---

Matt sat up, gasping for breath like he had just come up from under water. He tore his helmet off and looked around and realized, with a sharp pang of regret, that he could no longer see; that there was no light coming off of anything. His world had been thrown back into fire.

He stood up and almost tripped over a body at his feet. “No,” he said, dropping back to the ground as his knees refused to hold his weight. “What did you do?” he asked the still figure of his friend. Vladimir’s body was warm, he couldn’t have been dead long.

_An exchange,_ a voice in his head said. It echoed through his brain and warped his vision so that he was sure he was seeing someone in front of him in robes with no real face, only a skull with darkness in its eyes.

“An exchange?” Matt parroted, his voice cracking over the question. He bit his lower lip and curled his hand into a fist for lack of anything better to do with his hands. He wasn’t able to throttle Vladimir like he felt he needed to and was definitely _not_ going to touch whatever it was that was standing on the outside of his vision.

A part of Matt wondered why; wondered what possible reason Vladimir had to exchange his life for Matt’s. Even as he thought about why, he knew he already had his answer. Foggy knew; Karen knew; Niko and Anatoly had known; hell, even his dad had known. “Shit,” he whispered as he realized part of him had known too. It hadn’t just been attraction and now, thanks to some kind of sick sense of selflessness, Vladimir had traded his life for Matt’s.

_Your life for his,_ the voice continued as if ignorant of the torrent of emotions that had crashed around Matt as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. As if he were dying again.

“That’s not fair!” He shouted though he knew it would do no good. He fisted a handful of Vladimir’s shirt in his hand so that his fingers could brush against the rapidly cooling flesh of Vladimir’s still body.

_No?_

“No!” Matt repeated. “I-I just-” he hesitated and dropped his chin to his chest. “I just worked up the courage to-” he stopped and shook his head. Whatever that thing was, it didn’t need to know how he felt about Vladimir. It took him away, it forfeited any right to know what he felt.

Matt let go of Vladimir’s shirt and searched around until he found his hand and wrapped their fingers together. He collapsed against Vladimir’s abdomen and closed his eyes, imagining that he could hear the Russian’s strong heartbeat. He remembered the fear that had gripped him when he heard that heart stutter and stop after their fight with the Hand ninjas; the soul-gripping terror that his friend had died when Matt knew he could do something about it.

That feeling was now overshadowed by the agony he could feel down to his bones. He had been shot, stabbed, and beaten but this was so much more painful than anything he had ever gone through. It was an emotional pain so strong that he could feel it as a physical ache. If that was even a fraction of what Vladimir had felt when Matt had died, he figured he could understand why Vladimir had traded places with him.

“Why are you still here?” Matt asked, not caring how rude the question sounded. He could bring himself to even move, let alone look at the figure standing like a sentinel at the mouth of the alley. “You got what you came for. You’re free of whatever prison you were in. Why are you still here?”

_I have been locked away for a long time, Matthew._ Matt didn’t wonder how it knew his name. He didn’t care. _I have seen many things in that time, but I have been unable to do what I was created for. Do you know what I am, Devil?_

Matt hummed and twisted around a bit so that his face was now mashed in Vladimir’s chest, as if he could just blend his body into Vladimir’s and just cease to exist for a while. “Death, right? That’s what they thought when I was dead.”

_Yes. I was imprisoned by a mad Titan named Thanos when I did not return his affections. How the Collector came upon the key, I do not know; but he passed it on to your lover and I granted his wish as thanks for freeing me._

Matt’s initial reaction was to correct Death about his relationship with Vladimir, but he felt like that really didn’t matter in retrospect. “There’s so much about what you just said that doesn’t make sense,” he complained.

_Unfortunately, I fear that you will one day know of whom I speak. But for now, just know that I only did as he asked._

Matt heaved a sigh and finally sat up but refused to let go of Vladimir’s hand even for a moment. He wanted to point out that the explanation didn’t do anything to answer Matt’s initial question. He turned and tried to focus on what was behind the skeletal figure blocking most of his view of the park; his enhanced senses couldn’t pick out anything in the crushing silence that sat beyond the strange buzzing in his head.

“They’re all dead, aren’t they?” Matt asked, already knowing the answer.

Death nodded. _It was what I had originally felt the World Owner had wanted. But I had been partly mistaken. Your Vladimir is a very complicated man._

Despite himself, Matt laughed. “Not really. Not once you get to know him.” Matt gave the body next to him a watery smile and wanted to just explain Vladimir and just how much the Russian had meant to him. He had wanted to just explain to himself and to Death that he had been a fool to deny what was, in retrospect, so obvious to everyone around them.

The words were stolen away from him when the earth shook and a deafening roll of thunder rumbled through the skies. In the confusion, Matt found himself on his feet, his body poised for a fight even if his heart wouldn’t be in it. _It’s time,_ Death said and raised a hand in Matt’s direction.

He braced himself for whatever that hand would do to him, but felt nothing. He relaxed his posture minutely and cocked an ear towards the alley to see if he could sense what had been done before he realized that he could hear the unmistakable cadence of Vladimir’s heartbeat.

“What?” he asked dumbly his entire body turning to put himself between Death and Vladimir as the blond struggled to catch his breath and stand on shaking legs.

_He took your place,_ Death said simply as if Matt was supposed to understand what that meant. _He remained dead for the exact time you did._

Matt felt his jaw drop and knew that his surprise was mirrored by the man behind him who was swearing in a mix of Russian and English. “Why did – what did?” Vladimir asked inelegantly.

Death, it seemed, understood his disjointed and unfinished question. _I did not find it important to tell you. But know this: the next time we meet, you will be mine._

Vladimir nodded and made an aborted step towards the spectral figure still standing at the mouth of the alley. Death raised its hand again and all evidence that they had been there disappeared. Matt could no longer smell the metallic burn of his own blood, as if they had never been near the park at all. “We should go,” Matt said as he backed up and bumped into Vladimir. He fumbled behind him, keeping his face towards Death, and grabbed onto Vladimir’s fingers, _I’m not letting you go any time soon_ , he thought to himself.

Matt felt a rush of wind swirl around them and in the same instant all traces of Death were gone. Now the duo stood at the edge of a crime scene that would be overrun with police any minute. “We need to get out of here now, ‘Mir.”

“Right,” Vladimir agreed and allowed Matt to lead them back towards his apartment where Matt would wait until they were safe before he tried to process everything that had happened that night.

They made their way back to Matt’s apartment in silence until the heavy door was shut behind them. “What the hell were you thinking?” Matt hissed out, pushing Vladimir against the wall in his anger. “You absolute jerk! _You left me!”_ He didn’t give Vladimir a chance to defend himself or his insane choice. He closed to small distance between them and pulled Vladimir down to his level and silenced any remark Vladimir may or may have been coming up with. Matt found that he didn’t want to hear it. “You’re an asshole,” he said before he threw all previous caution to the wind and kissed Vladimir with everything he had.

“To be fair,” Vladimir said, sounding dazed. “You left me first. I do not do well on my own.”

Matt let out a watery chuckle and shook his head. “Neither do I,” Matt countered with a small frown. He had the sudden urge to just curl up and sleep. Part of him wondered why he felt tired after he had died, but the exhaustion was mostly due to wave after wave of emotions that had crashed over him throughout the night.

As if they acted by themselves, Matt watched with an odd sort of fascination as his fingers worked to remove the body armor covering Vladimir’s chest without any sort of command from his brain. He knew it was just to get to his skin, to check for himself that the heat of life had return. He didn’t stop with removing the body armor; his fingers, trembling slightly, opened the buttons of Vladimir’s shirt and dropped down his torso, following the raised scars of tattoos and old wounds as they were uncovered.

“Matvey?” Vladimir said his name like a question; like he was afraid to break whatever spell had fallen over them in the quiet stillness of Matt’s apartment.

Matt shushed him with another kiss; on his tiptoes to bring himself closer to Vladimir’s height. “I tried to say it earlier, but I just couldn’t.” He knew it was a bit out of left field, but he couldn’t go on without at least telling Vladimir what had been on his mind. “But you died. You traded your life for mine without knowing it wasn’t going to be forever.” Matt shook his head and stopped himself for just a moment with another soft kiss. “You’re amazing.”

Vladimir reached out and pushed Matt down off his toes before he spun them around so that Matt suddenly found himself with his back against the wall. “I told you that you are worth more than I am,” Vladimir answered lowly, the heat from his body warming Matt. He felt himself smile at the thought. It hadn’t been that long ago that he feared he would never feel it again.

“You’re ridiculous. And stupid. And I just want to – I just want to make sure you never do anything like that ever again,” Matt said and wrapped his arms around Vladimir’s shoulder and tried to pull the towering Russian towards him, only to be stopped by the ringing of his phone from its place on the coffee table where he had left it.

_FOGGY. FOGGY. FOGGY._

“Answer it,” Vladimir commanded gently. “The news is probably reporting the incident.”

Matt nodded and reluctantly stepped around Vladimir. “Hey Foggy,” he greeted once he answered the call.

Foggy’s voice sounded far away as if he had his phone on speaker while he was outside. “ _Matt, please tell me you’re okay. There was some kind of explosion. It leveled the park. There’s bodies everywhere. Brett won’t let me get closer.”_

“Foggy. I’m fine. We’re fine,” Matt cut in, trying to soothed the frayed edges of Foggy’s nerves. “We’re at my apartment.”

He could hear Foggy released a relieved breath, the tension bleeding out of the conversation instantly. “ _You’re both okay? I just had this horrible feeling that you guys got yourselves in way over your head_.”

Matt laughed and made his way back over to Vladimir, unwilling to be too far away from him for the moment. “We kinda did, but we’re okay. Can we talk about this later? I, uh, I was sorta in the middle of something.”

Matt could hear the gears turning in Foggy’s head just as he could hear the leer curling his lips. “ _Oh yeah? Did you finally get your head out of your ass and realize that your big, scary Russian is totally in love you with you?”_

“Yeah,” Matt whispered, a smile gracing his face as he felt Vladimir’s hands curl around his hips and pull him backwards so that they were settled back to chest. “Yeah, I did.”

“ _I’ll let you get back to it, but you owe me an explanation tomorrow, Murdock,”_ Foggy said with an exasperated huff. “ _Be safe.”_

“Yes, mom,” Matt said before he hung up and threw his phone so that it landed on the couch with a bounce. “He was worried about us,” Matt said to Vladimir without turning. He was comfortable wrapped in a pair of strong arms that were rocking them slowly to some music in Vladimir’s head.

“With good reason,” Vladimir said before his fingers deftly started to open the release on Matt’s armor. As the Devil was shed Matt felt something settle in his chest; a kind of contentment he hadn’t ever felt. It was if all the stress in his life melted away under the soft and sure touch that was shedding the layers away to reveal the real Matt Murdock. “But we are both safe and alive.”

Matt hummed in agreement and knelt down to remove his boots without falling over and ruining the charged atmosphere that had settled over the pair ever since the door closed.

Free of everything but his armored trousers, Matt settled on his knees to keep his balance while he opened Vladimir’s belt with a swift twist of his wrist. “Let’s go to bed,” he suggested lowly. He knew that come morning, they would have to face the consequences of their actions. He would have to tell Foggy what happened, as unbelievable as it was. But for now, he was determined to take something for himself. He was done denying what had been simmering just under the surface since their first meeting.

In the morning they could worry about what to do next. For now, Matt wasn’t going to worry about anything other than making up for all the lost time they had wasted waiting for Matt to get over himself. Whatever happened next, he knew he wouldn’t have to face it alone. He had Foggy, Karen and now he had Vladimir who he was going to keep by his side for as long as possible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end. The conclusion. 
> 
> I may add an epilogue if I find that I just can't leave things alone, but this is officially the longest multi-chapter fic I've ever written and I'm sad to leave it.


End file.
